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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



JtgljttttJj % Hun 

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g>vt$t. Mn\ttr William ft. 3mi>B 

Known among his comrades as " Lucky Elill " 
No. 59 of % 

Smjal (Canadian Sragnona 




AIKEN BOOK COMPANY 
Albany, New York 



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Copyright 

by 

Aiken Book Company 

1918 



DtC 24 1918 
©CI.A508668 



V 



"Each honest soul your memory shall revere, 
And pay a tribute of a tender tear." 

To the memory of my Comrades of the Royal 
Canadian Dragoons, who have fought the good fight 
and now rest in peace, some before and some behind 
the battle lines in France; and to my own little son, 
whom I trust and pray may live to see and enjoy the 
blessings that will come to the world because of 
their devotion to duty and life's sacrifice, this book 
is reverently and hopefully dedicated. 



CONTENTS 

Chapter 

A Volunteer _ I 

Enlistment _ II 

Orders Ill 

Aboard ship _ IV 

At Salisbury Plain V 

First Canadian Cavalry Brigade VI 

"Kultur" VII 

Battle of Festubert VIII 

Taking the Count IX 

The Mail Bag X 

At La Parol and Givenchy XI 

Hospital Train and Hospital XII 

I Return to the Regiment XIII 

We Leave Freacourt XIV 

Cavalry at the Somme XV 

A Battle on the Somme _ XVI 

We Do Not Fight at La Somme XVII 

The Gethsemane of Man XVIII 

In Billets „ XIX 

Off for Longavesnes XX 

Storming and Capturing Longavesnes XXI 

We Come Into Our Own XXII 

A Soldier's Home in France XXIII 

The Fifth of April, 1917 XXIV 

Impressions of a Raid on German Trenches XXV 

A Visit to Paris XXVI 

Canadian Cavalry at Battle of Cambria XXVII 

First Phase of the Battle XXVIII 

A Night of Horror XXIX 

Coming of Dawn _ XXX 

We Bluff Fritz _ XXXI 

Digging In XXXII 

After the Cambria Advance XXXIII 

Home Again XXXIV 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Page 



Frontispiece 

The transports 26 

Shrewton, England 34 

Ruins in a village 46 

One of the earlier trenches 58 

Hospital train _ 82 

An "Angel of Mercy" 88 

At attention 106 

One of the crosses Ill 

Alone 136 

One way out _ 137 

Machine gun crew 172 

Major Timmis and sergeants 198 




CHAPTER I 

A VOLUNTEER 

"Why should I war without the walls of Troy? " 

— Shakespeare 

HY! Why are so many men ever ready 
at the sound of bugle and beat of drum 
to drop peaceful pursuits, forsake home 
and family and the association of old 
friends, to meet the dangers and dis- 
comforts attendant in a war upon their 
fellow beings? 

That love of country and devotion to its peace 
and welfare, called "Patriotism," actuates one's con- 
duct, and should, at a time when its security or honor 
is at stake. Then men should, and do, actuated by 
such feeling, forsake home and loved one's and all 
else to serve their country. Men will also take up 
arms against their fellows when the safety and honor 
of home and family is endangered. That, also, is but 
natural, but why did I, and why do others, not im- 
bued at the time with such feelings nor confronted 
with such calamity, take up arms and go to war? 
It must simply be to satisfy a desire or a feeling 
for adventure and excitement. 

(1) 



2 A VOLUNTEER 

In the year of the outbreak of the pending world 
conflict, neither Scotland, the land of my birth, nor 
America, the country of my home, were seriously 
endangered, at least I entertained no such feeling, 
and neither was there even a remote possibility of 
home or family being attacked or injured, and surely 
at that time, our present enemy had not offended 
me personally, by word or act, so why should I 
have desired to "war without the walls of Troy?" 

I have but one answer, so I must confess, I fear, 
that the motive which took me into the conflict 
was none other than that inspired by love for ad- 
venture, and I am willing to admit that I was at 
the time one of the class of whom Macaulay said: 
"He loved excitement and adventure." So I for- 
sook home and its comforts to enter what has 
proved, to my satisfaction, to be a noble service, 
a service in the interest of the life and freedom of 
the civilized people of the world, — a war for human- 
ity, and nothing less. 

Historians will in the future write of this war, 
but they can only give statistics, record dates and 
events. They can never portray the feelings of the 
men engaged, the spirit that impelled duty, the 
anguish and suffering of those engaged in doing 
their bit to make the world fit for life. They can 
tnever know of nor give proper credit to, the count- 
less heroes who have given up and will give up their 
life for the cause. This part of the war's history 



A VOLUNTEER 3 

can only be told by the men who too have fought, 
and have survived to tell the story, through speech 
and pen, and then it cannot be and never will be 
fully portrayed to the mind or heart of those who 
hear and read. 

My purpose in writing something of my part and 
experiences, and that of my brave comrades, in this 
Titanic conflict, is to add my bit to the literature, 
if this may be called such, of the war, and to record 
something of the history that is now being made, 
and in doing so shall relate facts truthfully, and 

nothing but actual facts, and so I now relate: 

"Don't be a fool, Billy! Why, this war won't 
last more than three months. Why throw up a good 
position for the sake of trying to kill a few Huns ?" 
Such was the advice volunteered and the question 
asked by one of my friends in August, 1914, when 
I suggested to him my thought of enlisting for ser- 
vice against the Germans in the war just started. 

To this well intended but, to my way of think- 
ing, ridiculous advice and foolish caution, I replied: 
"Don't talk so foolishly. Why this war will last for 
a year at any rate, and I, for one, am going to take 
a chance of getting over there and into it and see- 
ing the fun." My friend thereupon pronounced me a 
"bigger fool" than he had ever before thought me. 
I replied to this compliment by saying, "Oh, yes, 
Roy, you may not be far wrong, and in fact you 
may be quite right in your opinion of me, for I 



4 A VOLUNTEER 

guess, after all, I am all kinds of a fool, but it strikes 
me also that this is a fool's war, and if I am what 
you declare me I should be just the one to make 
good in it." 

It took me about a week, after this conversation, 
to make up my mind fully on the subject, but the 
afternoon of September 9th found me in the office 
of Mr. Lockrow, my employer. I had received and 
had in my possession at the time, a letter from a 
good friend then enlisted in the regular forces of 
the Canadian army, and it was this letter that per- 
suaded me to end my career for the time as a rail- 
road employee in the freight service of the New 
York Central Railroad Company at Amsterdam, New 
York, and get into the fray. 

The letter advised me that if I wanted to see 
action now was the time. "Come on, Bill," he wrote. 
"Just the thing you'll like. I'll be expecting you 
soon, so get a move on, for we leave Canada any 
day now for France." 

"Well, Mr. Lockrow, I'm going." Thus I informed 
my employer after having decided to enlist. "Going 
where, Bill?" he asked. "To France to fight," I re- 
plied. "Do you mean it?" said he. I replied I was 
never more serious on a matter before in my life. 
He immediately struck me as a good sport, when he 
said, "Well, Bill, if you have so decided, then 
good bye. I hope you make good and come back 
all right." 



A VOLUNTEER 5 

"Oh, I'll come back; I have no fear about that, 
for they can't kill me," I answered. 

Eleven-thirty that night saw me at the railroad 
station accompanied by my wife and Uncle Roy 
Loder, who came with me to see me safely started 
and to bid me good bye. 

I felt that they did not seriously believe the part- 
ing was to be for long. I am sure they expected me 
to lose some of the enthusiasm once I was away and 
that I would be back home in two weeks or less. 
Little did they know or did I then realize that three 
years and a half would elapse before we saw one 
another again. 

I can remember the night of my departure well, 
looking back now after the lapse of those long, 
somewhat weary and troublesome years. I won- 
der, if I had really known that night what was to 
confront me, what hardships and dangers I was to 
suffer and face, would I have had the nerve or the 
courage to go. I feel now if, while Waiting for my 
train, the future could have been revealed to me I 
should have turned back before the departure of 
the train. I was blissfully ignorant, however, and 
so I kissed my wife good bye, said farewell to my 
uncle and told him to look well after Billy, Jr., my 
little son of thirteen months, and jumped aboard. 
The train was now leaving the station and I was 
being carried away With little serious thought of 
what the future held in store for me. 
3 



6 A VOLUNTEER 

I was not on the train long before I fell asleep 
and when I awoke it was morning and I found my- 
self in Montreal. There, upon inquiry, I was in- 
formed I should have to proceed to Quebec, and 
thence to Valcatier Camp. Everyone else seemed 
to be going the one way — to Valcatier — and the one 
thought in the mind of all was — War. 

I reached Quebec about eight o'clock that night 
and went at once to a rooming house and engaged 
a room. The following morning saw me up, bright 
and early, and on my way to Valcatier, not even 
stopping for breakfast. 

As the train came within sight of the camp I had 
my first great surprise and my first real serious 
thought of what was likely before me — War. The 
train passed on through miles and miles of tents, 
it seemed. The sun was shining and the great white 
city spread out before me populated with men only, 
was surely a wonderful and impressive sight. 

All was activity. Everyone was busy. Wooden 
houses were being built, roads constructed and 
everything being done to provide a place to receive 
and quarter the soldiers. The impression this scene 
made caused me to remark to myself, "I guess I am 
in for some fun, all right, for all this bustle and 
preparation means the war must last for a year 
anyway." 

The train at last reached its destination and all 
were ordered out. I was now at a loss as to which 



A VOLUNTEER 7 

way to turn or to whom to report. After a mo- 
ment's thought I decided first to find my friend, 
Bill Tamlyn, of the Royal Canadian Dragoons. In 
this I had less trouble than I expected. 

I was directed, upon inquiry, to the place where 
his regiment was located, and further inquiry sent 
me to the sergeant's mess, where I found him work- 
ing. (Bill was never any fool, and so could be 
counted on to know where one could live well, and 
I was not surprised to find he had managed to at- 
tach himself to this department.) 

I said I found him working, which was true, but 
at the time wholly in his own personal interest, for 
he was busy making away with sliced tomatoes, 
French fried potatoes and cold meat in the way only 
a healthy, hungry man could eat. I could not at 
first disturb him in this enjoyable as well as neces- 
sary occupation, and so stood for a moment, unob- 
served, watching him. Finally I said, "Hello, Bill." 
He looked up and immediately a smile lit up his 
face, and when he fully realized it was I, he gave 
one yell and made a jump, unsetting the table in 
his excitement, and there we were, hugging each 
other lfke two silly school girls. 

When he could speak he said, "You sure are a 
sight for sore eyes." I returned the compliment, 
said I was glad to be there, answered all his ques- 
tions, sensible and foolish, and the.n was reminded 
by my stomach that I had not yet had my break- 
fast, so I remarked that I was pretty hungry. 



8 A VOLUNTEER 

"'Nough said." I was immediately seated and 
soon satisfying my hunger. How I did enjoy that 
breakfast, and I am able to say yet, that no more 
enjoyable meal was ever eaten by two happier per- 
sons than was that first breakfast Bill and myself 
partook of that morning at Valcatier Camp. 

During that meal we talked of the future and 
passed a pledge to stick to each other through thick 
and thin in whatever might lie before us. So strong 
was our friendship then and since that that vow has 
been religiously kept. Together we have been 
through all that I shall relate here. I shall always 
thank God for having had such a faithful pal 
through the many days we have lived since that 
first breakfast together at Valcatier. 




CHAPTER II 

ENLISTMENT 

There was born at Valcatier a new family — all brothers, 

Pledged to serve humanity; 

To give their lives, if need be, — for others. 

Y RECORD for quick enlistment, I be- 
lieve, stands out as one of the finest 
things in all my career as a soldier. 
Something of my feeling in that con- 
nection is displayed in a letter written 
to my uncle immediately upon my entry 
into the service. 

"Valcatier Camp, Quebec Prov. 
9—12—14 
"Dear Old Roy: 

"I arrived safe in camp and hold the record 
for quick enlistment. In about five minutes I was 
a soldier of H. R, M. King George V., of Great Brit- 
ain and Ireland. 

"Well, old man, you can see by the heading of my 
letter that I am in for some fighting. If we get 
there our machine guns can fire seven hundred bul- 
lets per minute — going some, eh? Well, that's us. 

(9) 



10 ENLISTMENT 

I think we leave Tuesday for the front, I hope so, 
anyway. 

"Say, it's great up here. Nothing but tents and 
men. I can hear the boys over in the Y. M. C. A. 
tent singing Throw Out the Life Line.' That's 
what they are singing now. Over 30,000 men and 
60,000 horses and not a drunk among the men. No 
'booze' in camp. Everybody happy, except those 
who didn't pass the medical examination. 

"Well, I am pretty tired. When you go to bed 
to-night just think of me with my two blankets and 
waterproof sheet and sleeping on the ground. 

"Tell Frank I tried to develop that Charley horse 
but without success. Give my regards to the boys 
and tell them I will try and send then all a P. C. 
In the meantime they might send me one. 

"I am getting more money than I expected, $9.75 
per week. That is the inducement for entering the 
machine gun corps. You know if we can fire seven 
hundred bullets per minute we will be able to do 
some execution, and we are the first the enemy 
wants to put out of action. 

"Well, so long, old boy. Don't forget to keep 
your eye on Billy. I hope I come back if God spares 
me. Regards to them all. I remain, 

"Yours, 

"BILL." 

I have been asked if I ever felt homesick. I can 
honestly say, in reply, that I was ever too busy 



ENLISTMENT 11 

to really feel anything of that nature, for long, at 
least. While in camp I never had a sleepless night. 
After the day's excitement of breaking horses, 
learning to ride, fixing saddlery, getting clothing, 
etc., and when the parades were over and our work 
finished we would gather around a fire and talk of 
the future, the subject of conversation always being 
war, war. 

We of the machine gun corps felt that our branch 
of the service was to be the most important of all, 
and we felt to be called a "M. G. man," was equiva- 
lent to saying "one of God's chosen in the service." 
As we talked of ourselves and the part we were to 
play in the great war game, we would frequently 
picture ourselves holding, against fearful odds, some 
important position, and at times we would become 
serious and sentimental and in this mood we would 
picture the possible casualties among the men of 
our corps. More than once have I seen tears roll 
down the cheeks of some strong man when, with 
such thoughts in his mind, he spoke of his home in 
some far off part of Canada. 

We met as strangers but were friends and true 
comrades from the first. The spirit born at Valca- 
tier Camp held good on foreign soil. We were really 
brothers now, and this feeling of unity had much 
to do with the courage and faith displayed by the 
men in holding the Huns back from Calais and at 
the second battle of Ypres in April, 1915. 



12 ORDERS 

The men of the camp came from all classes and 
all walks of life. There were college men, profes- 
sional men, lumbermen, and laboring men of every 
description. Geographically they came from the 
furthermost northern, western and central parts of 
Canada and elsewhere. In this connection I cannot 
help recalling and repeating the words of Kipling — 

"Oh East is East and West is West; 
And never the twain shall meet, 
Till earth and sky stand presently 

At God's great judgment seat. 
But there is neither East nor West, 
Border nor Breed nor Breath, 
When two strong men stand face to face, 

Though they come from the ends of the earth." 

Those days at Valcatier were happy days. We 
were full of life and keen for excitement and adven- 
ture, but little did we realize then how fully our 
desires and hopes were to be fulfilled. 

We left Canada full of the joy of living and the 
soul bubbling over with excitement. We of that 
first Canadian contingent, of whom I particularly 
speak, who have seen all the horrors of war and 
yet live, have learned much, and today are wiser 
men with something of that boyish joy of living 
crushed out, and in its place there is a serious 
thought of life and a feeling of satisfaction that we 
have accomplished something worth while, and with 
it a feeling of thankfulness that we have been spared 
and are yet able and strong enough to continue to 



ORDERS 13 

perform the duty of helping rid the world of the 
great menace that threatened us from the first and 
which still exists. 

We were anxious from the first to get over seas 
and were ever inquiring when we were to leave 
camp. Rumors were ever prevalent in this connec- 
tion, mostly rumors they proved to be, to our dis- 
appointment. 

"When do we leave for the front?" 

"Well, I heard from pretty good authority that 
we leave tomorrow. Now you know George Gill, 
Colonel Nellis' batman?" (batman is an officer's body 
servant) "Well, he heard Sam Hughes tell the col- 
onel that we were moving shortly," et cetera. 

Such is an illustration of the many rumors that 
were about, and we believed them all. We were 
so anxious for action those days we believed any- 
thing that we wanted to believe of that nature, and 
consequently every rumor of orders to move was 
accepted as a fact. 

While we worked hard at Valcatier, yet it was 
not all work, for we lacked no amount of amuse- 
ment as well. The Y. M. C. A. provided certain 
recreation rooms, provided writing material, con- 
ducted moving picture entertainments, etc. There 
was also about the usual camp followers with their 
various forms of entertainment and schemes to get 
what loose change the boys possessed. In this 
connection I will cite the case of a far-seeing and 
4 



14 ENLISTMENT 

ambitious youth possessed with more business am- 
bition than patriotism, i"rr instead of coming to 
camp as a volunteer, he brought to it a moving pic- 
ture establishment, which he set up for business, 
charging the boys an admission fee of ten cents. 

He showed a very poor class of pictures and, 
worst of all, short changed the boys whenever pos- 
sible. I will not dwell long on the career of this 
fakir's enterprise, beyond saying that on a certain 
night some of the boys held a ' 'council of war," at 
which it was unanimously decided this fellow had to 
go out of business and quit camp. 

Plans were outlined to carry out this decision, 
and the rapidity with which news of the contem- 
plated action spread from one part of the camp to 
the other would have surprised a good advertising 
manager. 

The time for action was fixed and that evening 
a large party assembled about the show tent and 
began a dance. Certain men were detailed to cut, 
at a given signal, the guy ropes. No plan was ever 
more expeditiously carried out. At the signal a 
shout went up and down came the tent upon the 
head of the proprietor. Smoke at once arose and 
soon the tent and entire establishment was a sheet 
of flames with the boys dancing about in the wildest 
sort of a war dance imaginable. 

The ending of the show enterprise in this spec- 
tacular fashion gave the boys more real entertain- 



ENLISTMENT 15 

ment during the half hour it lasted than it had given 
during its entire existence in camp. 

The good result of this lawless act on the part 
of the boys was far more reaching than they had 
figured, for what little money the manager possessed 
he had invested in the equipment, and when he 
found himself "broke," he concluded the only thing 
left for him to do was to join the army, which he 
did. 

We later learned he had been detailed to be a 
cook, and if all reports of his conduct in! that capac- 
ity be true, he had the satisfaction of getting re- 
venge to the limit upon some of the participants 
in that night's affair. I congratulated myself, on 
that account at least, that he did not become a 
member of the outfit to which I belonged. 



CHAPTER III 



ORDERS 



When in a country free, comes a call — "To Arms!" 
It is to war in defense against a common foe. 

'Tis a Nation's cry for help, a call which alarms 
And sends all loyal men "where duty leads" — to go. 




T LAST, orders, for which we had been 
looking", came. 

Hughes and the Governor General of 
thirty. Inspection by General Sam 
"Drill order tomorrow morning — nine- 
"You will parade mounted." 
Canada/' 

Such were the orders preparatory to plans for 
over seas. Nine-thirty the following morning saw 
us formed for inspection. It was the first time that 
I had the pleasure of seeing the men of the regi- 
ment all together and of forming an opinion as to 
the kind of an outfit, as a whole, I had the honor 
of being connected with. 

As I glanced along the line that morning it was 
my opinion that I had never before seen such a fine 
looking body of men. Every man five-foot-six, or 

(16) 



ORDERS 17 

over, and mounted on the finest horses Canada could 
produce. The sight to my eyes was wonderful and 
inspiring, and I felt I was the proudest boy in the 
whole of Canada. I still hold the opinion that look 
where you will, you can never find a like number of 
finer or more soldierly looking boys than made Up 
that first Canadian contingent to which I found my- 
self attached. 

We were formally inspected by General Hughes, 
who took occasion to pay us a glowing tribute, say- 
ing, among other things : "I am glad to have such 
a body of men for us instead of against us." 

After the inspection was over we listened to a 
most stirring and patriotic address by General 
Hughes. The address so impressed me that I deem 
it worthy and proper to put it in print in connection 
with this part of my story. The subject of his ad- 
dress was, "Where duty leads." 

"Fellow Soldiers I Six weeks ago, when the call 
came To Arms!' inspired by that love of freedom 
from tyranny dominant in the British race, actuated 
by the knowledge that under British constitutional 
responsible government, you enjoyed the utmost of 
human liberty, you loyally and promptly responded 
in overwhelming numbers to that call. 

"Twenty-two thousand men were accepted by the 
Motherland. Today upwards of thirty-three thou- 
sand are en route to do duty on the historic fields 
of France, Belgium and Germany for the preserva- 



18 ORDERS 

tion of the British Empire and the rights and liber- 
ties of humanity. 

"Lust of power, the subjugation of inoffensive 
and law-abiding neighbors, autocratic aggrandize- 
ment, have caused this war. In its cause the allies 
are guiltless. 

"Belgium and Holland have long excited Prussian 
ambition for ownership. Austria has desired exten- 
sion towards the Euxine and JEgean seas — insane 
lust of conquest bringing ruin, rapine and misery in 
the train. 

"It has long been predicted that when the Kiel 
canal would be completed Germany would begin the 
long-dreaded war. The Kiel canal was completed 
early in July. War was begun before the end of 
that month. Germany was found absolutely ready 
and waiting. Great Britain, Belgium and France 
were unprepared. Three weeks elapsed before the 
regular armies of .the latter countries could take 
the field. 

"Soldiers! The world regards you as a marvel. 
Within six weeks you were at your homes, peaceful 
Canadian citizens. Since then your training camp 
has been secured; three and a half miles of rifle 
ranges — twice as long as any other in the world — 
were constructed; fences were removed; water of 
the purest quality was laid in miles of pipes ; drain- 
age was perfected ; electric light was installed ; crops 
were harvested; roads and bridges were built; ord- 



ORDERS 19 

nance and army service corps buildings were 
erected; railway sidings were laid down; woods 
cleared; sanitation was perfected so that illness was 
practically unknown, and thirty-three thousand men 
were assembled from points, some of them upwards 
of four thousand miles apart. You have been per- 
fected in rifle shooting and today are as fine a body 
—officers and men— as ever faced a foe. The same 
spirit as accomplished that great work is what you 
will display on the war fields of Europe. There 
will be no faltering, no temporizing. The work 
must be done. The task before us six weeks ago 
seemed Herculean — but it has been successfully ac- 
complished. So following the same indomitable 
spirit, you will triumph over the common enemy of 
humanity. 

"That you will render a splendid account of your- 
selves for king and country is certain. You come 
of the right breed— English, Scotch, Irish, French, 
Welch, German and American — your courage and 
steadfastness are proverbial. In South Africa your 
presence was a guarantee of success. So in this 
most righteous struggle on the part of Britain. 
When side by side with soldiers from the Mother- 
land stand the freemen from the Dominion beyond 
the seas; when Australians, New Zealanders, South 
Africans, Hindus, New Foundlanders and Canadians 
tread the soil of Europe, then will the Prussian au- 
tocracy realize the gigantic power of liberty. 



20 ORDERS 

"And amid it all you will never forget that you 
war not on the innocent and lovely people of Ger- 
many. Your aim is the overthrow of tyranny and 
aggrandizement. 

"Every man among you is a free will volunteer. 
Not one has been invited. No more typical army of 
free men ever marched to meet an enemy. 

"Soldiers! Behind you are loved ones, home, 
country, with all the traditions of liberty and loy- 
alty; love of king and constitution. You bid adieu 
to those near and dear to you. You sing — 

"I go then, sweet lass, to win honor and fame, 
And if I should chance to come gloriously hame 
I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er, 
And then I'll leave thee and the homeland no more. 

"That you will so bear yourselves, individually and 
collectively, wherever duty may call you, as to win 
the respect of the foe in the field; the admiration 
and regard of the good citizens of all lands in which 
your lot may be cast; and the love and regard of 
those near and dear at home, is the conviction of 
all Canadians. 

"And when with years and honor crowned, 
You sit some homeward hearth around 
And hear no more the stirring sound 

That spoke the trumpet's warning, 
You'll sing and give one hip, hurrah! 
And pledge the memory of the day 
When to do and dare you all were there 

And met the foe in the morning. 



ORDERS 21 

"Some may not return— and pray God they be 
few. For such, not only will their memory ever be 
cherished by loved ones near and dear, and by a 
grateful country; but throughout the ages freemen 
of all lands will revere and honor the heroes who 
sacrificed themselves in preserving unimpaired the 
priceless gem of Liberty. But the soldier going 
down in the cause of freedom never dies— immor- 
tality is his. What recks he whether his resting 
place may be bedecked with the golden lilies of 
France or amid the vine clad hills of the Rhine. 
The principles for which you strive are eternal. 

"May success ever attend you, and when you 
return rest assured a crowning triumph will await 
you." 

Off to Quebec, hurrah! Orders were to leave the 
following morning at five o'clock. 

Promptly at the hour of five, to the minute, sad- 
dles were packed and we commenced the ride of 
seventeen miles to the old city of Quebec. 

As we rode out of camp bands were playing, caps 
were raised and waved, and such expressions were 
heard from men remaining behind, as 

"I'D see you over there, Bill." "Give them hell." 
"Get off his neck, who told you you could ride?" 
"Get off and get inside." "Where did you get that 
skate?" etc. 

Oh, gee! But breaking camp and this departure 
was exciting and filled each one of us with enthu- 
5 



22 ORDERS 

siasm and unbounded happiness. Such were our 
spirits as we rode from camp leaving behind the 
comrades who jestingly and in the spirit of comrade- 
ship, as well, had bid us adieu. 

We rode about ten miles and then stopped to 
water and feed the horses. We found everything 
prepared for us and was soon on our way again. 

We rode through lower Quebec about one P. M. 
that day. I can see it now. Flags were waving 
people cheering, laughing and crying, and waving 
handkerchiefs, flags and caps. Kisses were wafted 
to us from windows, flowers showered upon us, and 
those who could do so, ran along by our sides seek- 
ing an opportunity to grasp our hands and bid us 
a good bye and Godspeed. 

I, for one, certainly felt giddy and already quite 
like a hero, and so expanded my chest and sat well 
in my saddle looking straight to the front, trying 
as best I could to create the impression that all this 
was with me an everyday occurrence. 

"Bon voyage" kept ringing in our ears as we rode 
through the streets. 

Arriving at the docks the loading of the horses 
began at once, and some job it truly was, I assure 
you. One horse at a time was placed in a wooden 
cage and then hoisted with rope and tackle up and 
onto the deck. It was necessary to blindfold some 
of the horses, and others had to be shackled to 
manage them, and while the job lasted it was both 
interesting and exciting. 



ORDERS 23 

In connection with the handling of the horses one 
of the boys had rather an exciting experience for 
himself and one that was amusing as well to the 
rest of us, and it happened in this way. 

A steam derrick used in hoisting the horses sud- 
denly let out a shrill blast, frightening the horse 
held by the young man in question, and causing it 
to rear and bolt straight for the river and over the 
pier and into the water with Jackie all the time and 
still clinging to the head collar of the horse. Both 
horse and man disappeared beneath the water and 
when they reappeared Jackie still clung to the col- 
lar, but it and the horse had parted. A seargeant, 
fearing for the life of Jackie, ran immediately to 
the edge of the pier, but by this time the unfor- 
tunate gentlemen was splashing around trying to 
gain a hold upon the pier. The sergeant appeared 
quite relieved at seeing Jackie well able to take care 
of himself, but to add to the humor and set every 
one else at ease, apparently, he shouted, "Pete 

J , why in hell did you let the horse go for?" 

Jackie promptly replied, "I guess the son-of-a-gun 
jumped through the head collar, sergeant," at 
the same time holding up the collar as evidence that 
it was not his fault that the horse was no longer 
in his keeping, all of which brought forth a burst 
of laughter from the soldiers crowded on the pier. 

From that day until he met his death in France, 
he was known among his comrades as "Hold Tight 
Jackie," and this title was literally appropriate, for 



24 ORDERS 

he died "holding tight" his position in line and to 
duty at Festubert in 1915. 

By eight o'clock that evening the horses were 
loaded and the men who were to go on board the 
horse transport "detailed off." 

I had decided I did not care to make the trip over 
on the horse ship. I was wise enough to know there 
would be work on that vessel beyond what my am- 
bition would lead me to seek, and so I immediately 
took sick and "faded away" when it came to select- 
ing the men to accompany the horses. It was ad- 
venture I sought rather than work. I had looked 
the old S. S. Lakonia (the horse transport) over and 
remarked to myself "You are a fine boat for horses, 
but the Laurentic looks pretty good to me," and I 
never regretted my caution and decision to take no 
chances on the former. 

After the men who were to travel with the horses 
had been detailed, the balance of the regiment was 
formed up and went aboard the Laurentic. I was 
fortunate enough to obtain a second class cabin room 
(No. 127) and after seven days' experience at Val- 
catier with nothing but the ground for a mattress 
and a blanket to keep me warm, it surely did look 
good to me. 

Over one thousand troops went aboard this ship 
and after a long day's ride all were too tired for 
thought of much else than bed and so to bed we went 
and to sleep, with the intention of making ourselves 
acquainted with the ship on the following morning. 



CHAPTER IV 




ABOARD SHIP 

Like true sons heard they the call, 

And left their homes to cross the sea, 
In two and thirty ships,— in all. 

IFE on board the ship was at times 
dreary, to say the least. Reaching Gas- 
pie Bay, we anchored and there lay 
for three days. Day after day other 
ships entered the bay and cast anchor, 
until there were in all thirty-two ships 
so anchored. 

There was also with us the little warship called 
the "Rainbow," of the Canadian navy, which kept 
constantly steaming and fussing about. At last the 
signal was flashed from ship to ship to "Hoist an- 
chor and sail." 

At about four o'clock of the afternoon of October 
first the ships, one by one, left their moorings and 
proceeded out to sea. 

The following, formed in three distinct lines— left, 
center and right— made up our fleet:— 

On the left were the Megantic, Ruthenia, Bermu- 
dian, Alaunia, Ivernia, Scandinavian, Sicilian, Mon- 

(25) 



26 ABOARD SHIP 

treal, Lapland, Cassandra and Florizel. In the cen- 
ter the Carribean, Atenia, Royal Edward, Franconia, 
Canada, Monmouth, Manitou, Tyrolia, Scotian and 
Laurentic (the ship I boarded), and on the right 
the Tunisian, Arcadian, Zealand, Corinthian, Vir- 
ginian, Andania, Saxonia, Grampian, Lakonia, Mon- 
tezuma and Royal George. Said to be the largest 
fleet that ever crossed the Atlantic at one time, 
and carried the first contingent Canadian expedi- 
tionary force. 

We were convoyed by the warships H. M. S. Diana, 
Aaron, Eclipse, Glory, Charybdia, Talbot and Mag- 
nificent. 

The sight presented by these ships, as they pro- 
ceeded out to sea in this orderly position and man- 
ner, was one of the most impressive that it had ever 
been my privilege of witnessing, and one that I shall 
never forget. The picture here will give the reader 
a faint idea of the sight we beheld. 

I stood at the bow of the good old ship Laurentic 
and as I watched the steaming of this fleet I re- 
marked to one of my comrades, "Tick, old man, we 
are looking at the greatest fleet of transports that 
ever assembled under one flag." 

A great fleet it truly was. With bows pointing 
toward the east and as the sun was setting in the 
west we entered the great Atlantic, leaving behind 
us Canada and America and home — all we held most 
dear, with our destination unknown, but looking 



ABOARD SHIP 27 

hopefully toward the future and our unknown ad- 
venture and fate, but with the greatest expectations 
and utmost confidence in the ultimate success of the 
outcome of the work before us. 

I went to my cabin that night with a feeling, 
more or less, that I had taken my last look at the 
Canadian shores, and I think my feeling was fully 
shared in the same way by each and every man 
aboard those ships. 

Time seemed to pass slowly and those days at 
sea hung heavy, but I will not dwell long on ship 
life beyond saying, that the voyage lasted eighteen 
days, yet my story would not be complete if I did 
not mention, at this time, the thrill which the first 
sight of the Motherland inspired in our breasts. 

At the first sight of land a cheer went up from 
every throat on every ship. Men climbed into the 
riggings, bands began playing and everyone was 
happy to the limit. 

We entered and proceeded through the English 
Channel to Plymouth, and even before anchors were 
weighed, England was thoroughly awake to the fact 
that thirty-three thousand two hundred men — Brit- 
ish soldiers, loyal to the Motherland — had arrived 
from Canada and were awaiting to set foot on Eng- 
lish soil. 

It was here, while waiting to go ashore, that I 
got into my first serious trouble as a soldier. It 
happened in this way. We had run out of tobacco 



28 ABOARD SHIP 

and cigarettes on the way over, and decided since 
it was now possible to secure a supply, we would 
not wait until morning for our "fags." We de- 
cided to obtain some that night. I was elected by 
the men to go ashore, if possible, and obtain the 
smokes, and to assist me I selected my chum, Billy 
Tamlyn. We went to our cabin and prepared for 
the task by removing our clothes. Then I tied a 
five dollar note around my leg and thus equipped, 
we slipped overboard and swam to shore, not a great 
distance, fortunately, for the water was not any too 
warm for swimming. 

Reaching the landing we climbed up the stone 
steps of the naval dock, dressed, as I have described, 
only in our "bare skins," and in this fashion and 
way introduced ourselves to England and the na- 
tives. 

Two men happened to be on the dock at the time 
discussing, apparently, some important subject, and 
did not at first see us. We were in a hurry and de- 
cided to make their acquaintance without delay or 
ceremony, and so broke into their conversation by 
hailing them. They left off their argument and 
taking just one look at us gave a yell and "beat 
it." Amazed at this rather unexpected and unhos- 
pitable reception, I looked at Bill and he at me, 
and we both immediately burst into laughter. 

A dock hand now came on the scene and we se- 
cured his respectful attention and explained our 



ABOARD SHIP 29 

situation and wants, to which he replied : "Lor' love 
me, I'll get yer some fags." I gave him the money 
and we waited for his return. In about ten min- 
utes he was back with a box of fifty packs of "Wood- 
bines," and without waiting or offering to return 
us our change, and without further adieu he, too, 
took to his heels. We now decided to make our 
way back to the ship. 

"How are we going to get these fags back to the 
ship without getting them wet?" asked Tamlyn. 
This matter of getting the goods back had not con- 
cerned us up to this point and I replied, "Gee! I 
never thought of that, Bill." 

By some act of providence or man, rather the 
latter, however, a naval cutter happened to be tied 
to the pier near by. We decided the only thing 
to do was to appropriate the craft, and so unfas- 
tened it and jumped aboard and made for our ship. 
Someone was waiting for us in the shape of a 
corporal and two men with bayonets fixed, as we 
boarded the old ship, and I assure you we received 
more real attention and demonstration of welcome 
from them than we did from anyone on shore. We 
were taken charge of and marched, under escort, 
to the Guard House, with almost the entire ship 
company as interested and laughing spectators. We 
were satisfied with pur plight, however, for we had 
succeeded in securing and bringing back the fags 
we had gone for, though they proved to be the most 



30 ABOARD SHIP 

expensive article of luxury we had ever indulged in. 
We had not only paid five dollars for the tobacco, 
but were fined a respectable sum besides, my fine 
being twenty-five dollars and fourteen days first 
field punishment, while Tamlyn had imposed a fine 
of five dollars and seven days punishment. We did 
not mind all this in the least, however. It was 
simply an experience and we felt we could always 
say, "Well, didn't we bring back the fags?" A 
motto we have always followed, "Never to start a 
thing we couldn't finish." 

On the following day we disembarked and marched 
through Plymouth, welcomed by the people on every 
side. Food was given us and sweets and kisses 
thrown as we proceeded through the streets of this 
old seaport town. Finally we were returned to the 
government dock and a few hours later were on 
the train en route for Salisbury Plain. 



CHAPTER V 



AT SALISBURY PLAIN 




UR railway journey ended at Amesbury, 
from whence we marched to Pond Farm 
Camp, a distance of about ten miles. 
The long voyage had rendered our 
horses weak and sick and unfit to ride, 
and that march of ten miles on foot 
was the hardest, thus far, of our experience. 

We reached Pond Farm Camp at about 1 o'clock 
P. M., where we found tents ready and soon were 
supplied with refreshments. The sun was shining 
at the time and aeroplanes flew above our heads, 
dropping messages of welcome and inquiries such 
as these — "Are we downhearted ?" To which we re- 
plied, "No-o-OO" We surely were not. On the con- 
trary we were perfectly happy and looking forward 
to a pleasant stay here. 

The next day we could not have answered the 
foregoing question in quite the same sincere and en- 
thusiastic manner, for it rained, and rained, and it 
kept on raining for a month or more, typical Eng- 
lish weather. The mud and the cold and misery of 

(31) 



32 AT SALISBURY PLAIN 

the three months passed at Salisbury Plain I shall 
never forget, nor do I care to dwell upon the 
thought. 

The history of our regiment's stay at this camp 
I will leave to be written by someone who loves to 
write of misery far more than do I. It is sufficient 
for me to say that we suffered much sickness here 
and lost by death, from spinal-meningitis, a large 
number of men. We, the poor men of the cavalry, 
had not only ourselves to look after, but as well our 
even less fortunate horses, who were kept at this 
time in the open, unsheltered from the storm, and 
at times obliged to stand to their knees in mud. 
Much property was lost here through existing con- 
ditions, and I believe it safe to say that fully thou- 
sands of dollars worth of equipment in the shape 
of saddles and other articles were injured or wholly 
lost in the wet and mud. 

As to personal equipment and supplies, however, 
we lacked for nothing, having at all times plenty of 
wholesome food and an abundance of clothing, in 
fact, of the latter we had too much, and were able 
to and did supply the farmers thereabouts with the 
excess in the shape of boots, underwear, etc. 

Our discipline in those days, I am sorry to re- 
late, was far from being good or soldierly, and 
little wonder, as may be judged from a single case 
in point — 



AT SALISBURY PLAIN 33 

We were on parade one morning and the officer 
inspecting us finding some fault with a corporal, 
called a sergeant, to whom he said: "Sergeant, give 
this man ten days C. B." (confined in barracks). 
The sergeant replied: "But he is a corporal, sir," 
"Well, give it to the next man, then. Damn it," 
he commanded. This was the conduct of an officer. 

An illustration, as well, of the conduct of a pri- 
vate: Time, roll call; command, "Answer to your 
names." Then the roll call — Private Atkins. He 
responds properly, "Here, sir." All goes well until 
the name of Private Hubbard is called, to which he 
responds simply, "Here." Here what?" asks the 
officer. "Here I am," answered the man, amidst a 
roar of laughter from the other men. 

Oh, yes, with it all, and in spite of our misery, 
those were happy days, and even then we smiled 
and "carried on." 

I think the conditions I have described, which 
existed at Salisbury Plain, were due to the fact that 
the outbreak of the war found England wholly un- 
prepared to enter or carry on a war, notwithstand- 
ing Germany's boast that the war was begun by 
her in self defense and in order to forestall an attack 
on the part of England. It is only reasonable to 
expect that neither a soldier nor an officer can be 
made and trained in a day. 

I am sure the authorities of the imperial army 
finally came to the conclusion that good soldiers 



34 AT SALISBURY PLAIN 

could not be made out of us under the prevailing 
conditions, and that it would be best to get us to 
billets, for this they did soon after. 

We were surely glad when the time came to leave 
the cold and mud behind us. In February, 1915, 
we left Pond Farm and proceeded to a place called 
Shrewton, where we were doomed to pass another 
month of inactivity and consequent disappointment, 
for the one thing we had been looking forward to 
since leaving Canada, France and war, was not yet 
to be seen or realized. The days of machine gun 
lighting, the unknown misery, the heartaches and 
suffering, and with it all the glory we had pictured 
by day and dreamed of at night, came to us later, 
however. 

We had left behind us mud and cold and found 
here in its place water, which at times was knee 
deep. The picture here shows something of the 
conditions that existed at Shrewton. Such was 
something of the experiences and the life of a sol- 
dier in 1914-5. 




CHAPTER VI 

FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 

E REMAINED at Shrewton for over a 
month. While here we watched our 
Canadian infantry march away to fight 
and die in that awful yet glorious battle 
— the second battle of Ypres, in April, 
1915. 

As our comrades left us I was not the only boy 
to shed tears of disappointment at the thought of 
having to remain in camp while others were going 
to action, but such is war. Some go and some must 
remain in reserve and support until their part in 
the war game shall be reached, and accordingly the 
personal feeling or wish of the individual cannot be 
considered or gratified. To await orders and obey 
commands is the part and duty of a soldier. 

While at our new camp we received some real 
training and in time were moved to Maresfield, at 
which place we arrived a trained body of cavalry- 
men, and I believe as good a mounted unit as was 
ever trained in or ever left Great Britain. We were 
known as the 1st Canadian Cavarly Brigade, and 

(35) 



36 FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 

consisted of the 2nd King Edward's Horse, Lord 
Strathcona Horse and The Royal Canadian Dra- 
goons. We were under the command of General 
Seeley — formerly Colonel Seeley, Secretary of War 
of Great Britain and Ireland. General Seeley was a 
thorough soldier and a gentleman as well, but more 
of him will appear later. 

It was on May 2nd, 1915, that we really com- 
menced to make history for both ourselves and Can- 
ada. Colonel Nellis, our commanding officer, on this 
day addressed us to the effect that our comrades 
of the infantry battalions who had gone to France, 
had lost heavily in the recent fighting around Ypres 
and St. Julien. "Would we reinforce them ? Would 
we, as a body, volunteer to leave our horses and go 
to France as infantryman for a few weeks?" he 
asked. Would we? Well, the decision was made 
and the question answered in no uncertain language 
and the shouting and cheering that went up among 
all the men in the ranks showed their true feeling 
and spirit and their eagerness to get into action 
under any condition. 

The next day saw us on our way to Folkstone, 
equipped as infantrymen. We did not leave camp, 
however, without displaying some heartbreaking 
feeling in saying farewell to our horses, for we had 
already formed for this animal that unexplainable 
love that a man acquires for his faithful steed. 
Why, I believe nearly every one of the men hugged 



FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 37 

and kissed their nags and made all manner of funny 
noises in their throats when saying farewell. A 
good cavalryman, I know, has a love for his horse 
beyond what one could imagine. 

We arrived at Folkstone in due season and at 11 
P. M. were aboard ship ready to cross the Channel. 
The night was dark and the boat so small that we 
were packed in like sardines, but there was no com- 
plaint and little confusion or delay in getting away. 

Naturally we were tired after our march, but we 
were little concerned with this, for we were pos- 
sessed with that spirit of adventure and expectation 
of action which we knew now confronted us in 
France. 

At twelve-thirty we were in Boulonge, the first 
stage of our journey ended, and at last in France, 
the country to which our thoughts had ever turned 
since leaving Canada. We immediately went ashore 
and marched into camp and slept that night on 
French soil. We were aroused early the following 
morning and informed we were to move at once. 

"You have ten minutes to move. Come along, 
hustle up, get busy; fall in." 

"Who has left his rifle here?" "Answer your 
name." 

"Company, attention! Eyes right! Dress! Eyes 
front!" 

"From the right tell off by sections. Flanks of 
sections prove. Company attention!" 

7 



38 FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 

The foregoing were the commands which brought 
us into position to move, after which we were "at 
rest" for a brief spell, during which was heard cer- 
tain expressions from the men — for instance: 
"Where are we going?" And now we have our first 
glimpse of a French soldier, and some one near me 
exclaims, "Look at that cuss with a funny uniform," 
and to the chap the cause of this comment several 
of us yell, "Hello, Froggie!" To this salutation 
"Froggie" smiles and waves his hand. Then the 
command is given: "The regiment will come to at- 
tention," at which the opportunity for conversation 
and pleasantries is ended. A further command, 
"Attention! Advance in sections from the right. 
Quick march." And we are on our way. 

During the march the men had opportunity to 
converse and some such remarks were heard as: 
"When do we halt?" "How near are the trenches." 
"I wish this pack was in hell." The pack referred 
to being the infantry pack of the British army, 
which weighs sixty-five pounds and consists of rifle, 
bayonet and trenching tools, 250 rounds of small 
arms ammunition, a complete change of under- 
clothing, shirt, drawers and socks, towel and soap, 
razon and shaving soap, perhaps a hair brush and 
comb, jack knife, field dressing iodine and identity 
disc. You commence the march with that outfit 
and finish, possibly, with small ammunition, rifle, 
bayonet and water bottle and such rations as you 



FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 39 

may have remaining, the balance often becoming 
in some convenient way lost — for example: 

"Where is your pack, Private Brown?" 

"Well, it was like this, Sergeant. You know when 
we left Boulonge you told me to go back and see 
if all the packs were properly loaded. Well, I wanted 
to hustle, and in order to travel faster I took my 
pack off. Well, when I came back I could not find 
it." At this Private Brown would close his right 
eye and the sergeant, if a good sport, would do the 
same and the incident would be closed. 

In a short time we came to a railroad and there 
arose in our minds the question, What ! are we going 
to ride? We certainly were, and soon found our- 
selves loaded into the funniest as well as the dirtiest 
little box cars I had ever seen. They were marked 
"8 Chevuex" and "32 Hommes" (eight horses or 
32 men). In the car I occupied were placed forty- 
one men, and so crowded were we that one could not 
lie down — if he did he had to stay down. 

It was here, before the train moved, that I first 
saw one of the noted staff officers of the imperial 
army. He came to the car in which I was and 
asked: "Who is the senior in charge of this car?" 
The sergeant replied, "I am." The officer thereupon 
looked him all over through a specially constructed 
eye-glass fitted to one eye and with a cord attached, 
and then said to him: "Don't you know that you 
should stand at attention and say 'Sir' when ad- 



40 FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 

dressing an officer Don't you know the first duty 
of a soldier?" 

"Well, I am not a soldier," replied the sergeant. 
"You are not a soldier?" asked the officer. "No, 
I'm a Canadian," replied the sergeant, amid shouts 
of laughter from the men in the car. 

"Where is your officer, my man?" then com- 
manded the officer, in high dignity. "I am not your 
man," replied the sergeant, and continued, "I am 
Sergeant Cox of the Royal Canadian Dragoons, and 
when you are addressing a sergeant of the Royal 
Canadian Dragoons, you will please give him his 
rank." 

At this sally the officer left in a hurry, with the 
men calling after him, "Don't go yet, Willie." "After 
your window?" "I wonder how he ever got away." 
"Oh! it's from fauncy dauncing." 

It was a fortunate thing for us in that car that 
the train immediately pulled out or all this discour- 
tesy might have gotten us into serious trouble. 

We were in that train over eight hours and during 
that time we stopped once for lunch, but most of 
us did not care to eat, for we had already eaten the 
remaining portion of a day's rations, which con- 
sisted of a can of "Bully" beef per man (perhaps), 
and four hardtack. 

It was surely rough and tough traveling on that 
train, but we knew every hour was bringing us 



FIRST CANADIAN CAVALRY BRIGADE 41 

nearer the Hun, and so did not complain. On the 
whole we were quite happy and in good spirits. 

We reached our rail journey's end at 11 o'clock 
that night and were not long in climbing down and 
out of the cars, and not in the least sorry we had 
finshed that part of the journey and could be off 
the train. 

We were at once informed we were to go into 
billets about five kilometers away. Another weary 
march was immediately commenced and on the way 
our spirits began to wane, some of the feelings of 
some of the boys being expressed in this way, "Oh, 
way did I leave my happy home?" "Imagine doing 
this for $1.10 per day." "Gee, but my feet are 
sore." "flow about foot slogging now?" And some 
would start singing and then all would join, to the 
tune of "Bring Back My Bonnie to Me," a song the 
words of which ran thus — "Bring back, oh, bring 
back my horse to me." 




CHAPTER VII 

" KULTUR " 

N TIME, we arrived at a place called 
Merris, where we halted, and we who 
made up the machine gun crew were 
billeted in a convent. 

Here we beheld the first sight of the 
havoc wrought by the war. The con- 
vent in which we were quartered had been badly 
battered by shell fire, but amidst the ruins we found 
still working the sisters and priests, who had re- 
fused to leave the sacred shrine. The sublime 
beauty of their devotion to duty and the bravery 
and fortitude displayed in remaining and "carrying 
on," under such dangerous and trying conditions, 
greatly impressed and inspired us and at the same 
time imbued us with something of their spirit of 
duty and sacrifice. 

To say we were all greatly impressed is speaking 
lightly, for it did much more. It fired us with a 
determination to fight, and I, for one, swore to help 
avenge these Godly people for the awful atrocities 
inflicted upon them and committed by the enemy 
here in the name of "Kultur." 

(42) 



" KULTUR " 43 

It was not easy to get the nuns to talk to us, but 
the priests readily did so through our interpreter, a 
Roman Catholic priest, a French Canadian. They 
told us something of the inhuman conduct of the 
Huns. Described how they had taken possession of 
the convent and occupied it, and how one of the 
sisters, Sister Marie, upon her refusal to submit 
to the inhuman and beastly demands of a Hun, and 
while fighting him in the defense of her honor, had 
been murdered. How some of the sisters went to 
the aid of the British wounded soldiers and were 
shot for doing so. That when forced to retreat they 
had shelled the convent, killing three priests, one 
sister and fourteen school children being taught at 
the time in the convent school. 

We later visited the graves of these fallen mar- 
tyrs, and I knelt by the grave of Sister Marie and 
swore to avenge her death. 

Our stay at Merris, on the whole, was quiet, in- 
structive and pleasant. One night, about three days 
after our arrival here, orders came to move, with 
the information that we were going into the 
trenches. At this information we were in high glee 
and began singing and joking. We left during that 
night and marched twenty-one kilometers, which 
brought us to Locon. 

All ritght, during that march, we could hear the 
rumble of the guns, and at times could see great 
bursts of flame. As we advanced the sounds grew 



44 " KULTUR " 

in intensity until it seemed to our untrained ears 
that a great battle must be raging. 

The feeling of the nearness of death was now over 
all and with it the silly chatter and laughter stopped 
and there was no more singing, instead every face 
was white and drawn. For myself, I felt that I 
wanted to turn back and run, and to keep on run- 
ning until I could be far away from the awful roar 
and din which I knew meant battle and death and 
suffering, but the regular tramp, tramp of the feet 
of my comrades toward the front kept me going 
onward. To occupy my thoughts and in a way 
keep my mind more at ease, I finally commenced to 
hum a tune. The man next to me at once took it 
up and then the next, and soon we were all singing 
again — "Are we downhearted? No, no. Troubles 
may come and troubles may go," etc. In a little 
time we were quite ourselves and singing and joking 
like old veterans. 

We camped the remainder of that night in the 
main street of the quaint old French town of Locon. 

We had not been here long when my attention 
was directed to a new scene. ''Here comes some 
German prisoners, Bill," exclaimed one of my com- 
rades. I looked up and sure enough, slouching along 
the road came over five hundred dirty prisoners, 
with clothing torn, a few slightly wounded, and 
many of them smoking. At their head marched a 
German officer wearing the iron cross on his breast. 



" KULTUR " 45 

All sorts of remarks were directed by us to the 
Huns, but I will not dwell on what was said, beyond 
relating just one incident of this nature — 

"Hello, Fritz, how are they coming?" called one 
of our chaps, to which one of the Huns answered, 
in perfect English, "You go to hell, pig dog." 

This response so aroused our anger that for <x 
moment, I believe, that Hun was nearer death than 
he had ever been before. Fortunately for him and 
all concerned, a sergeant came along then and 
calmed our feeling by remarking, "Never mind, we 
will give them 'pig dog' tonight." 

While here at Locon we had the pleasure of our 
first sight of H. R. H. the Prince of Wales. At 
the. time he was a lieutenant in the Grenadier 
Guards, and when we saw him he, too, was smiling. 

About six P. M. we commenced another march, 
which brought us within striking distance of the 
enemy. Our orders now were, "No smoking, no 
talking!" 

We could now see the star shells and hear the 
rattle of the machine guns and the bursting of 
shells, while over our heads was heard the drone of 
some aeroplane, whether of friend or foe we knew 
not. 

Suddenly the command came, "The regiment will 

halt." At that each man threw himself down where 

he had stopped. Some soon fell asleep while others 

wrote short and hurried letters and addressed them. 

8 



46 " KULTUR " 

Our main thought now was concerning the serious 
part we were soon to play, and through our minds 
went such thoughts as: "I wonder how it feels to 
be wounded?" 'When shall I get mine?" "I won- 
der if I can really die game?" I do not believe a 
single man had that night other than some serious 
thought concerning himself or those he had left 




behind at home, whom he felt and knew would be 
grieved at his death should he fall on the morrow. 

Just before dawn we were ordered to occupy the 
village of Festubert. This we did under the cover 
of darkness and when dawn appeared we saw, and 
what we saw we shall never forget. 

As daylight came it was as though a curtain had 



11 KULTUR " 47 

been gradually drawn aside, exposing to view some 
horrible picture — a picture of utter desolation and 
ruin. What we beheld was the ruins of what had 
been but a few days ago, we judged, a pretty as well 
as a peaceful French village. But, my God! To 
see it now. Houses destroyed, furniture broken 
and scattered, the dead lying everywhere. Once 
brave soldiers lying as they had fallen in the blood- 
shed by them while defending the homes, lives and 
property of the peaceful, defenseless villagers — the 
women, children and little babes whom fate had seen 
lit to place in the way of the beasts of humanity, 
and who now lay with their defenders — comrades 
in death. 

Oh! the awful impression this first real sight of 
war's effect made upon each one of us, an impression 
and a feeling of awe that will live as long as any 
of us continue in life. It was here, I honestly be- 
lieve, that we also became something like the beasts. 
The finer natural traits and feelings, the years of 
schooling and training in the choice of gentlemanly 
expression and speech, seemed all to be wiped out 
in an instant, and in its place appeared the coarser 
and the uglier side of man. I heard great oaths 
uttered by the men, and I know men swore then who 
had never been profane before, and I believe they 
kept on swearing and hating as long as they lived, 
not that they enjoyed swearing and hating, but be- 
cause it seemed the only possible way of expressing 



48 " KULTUR " 

themselves and the only outlet for their feel- 
ings. 

I shall never forget our first day here. We saw 
line after line of wounded pass continually during 
the day and far into the night. The heat at this 
time, May, 1915, was intense, and the stench of 
decaying bodies and the blood was in our nostrils 
and has since remained there. 

Up to this time we had suffered no casualties. 
At ten o'clock that night we were ordered in sup- 
port, and off we went in single file to join the bal- 
ance of the brigade and receive our first baptism 
of fire in this awful war. 



CHAPTER VIII 



THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 



" Tis the wink of an eye: 'tis the draught of a breath, 
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death." 

— Wm. Knox 




T LAST we are at the front. "Holy 
smoke!" "Are these the trenches?" 
"Gee, whiz! Gee, but it's warm." 
"Where are the Germans?" 
Such were some of the impressions 
and expressions of the men upon their 
arrival in the trenches. We had little time now to 
survey our surroundings or for conversation, how- 
ever, for — "Bang, bang!" and the next instant 
shells were falling inside our trenches and a parapet 
was knocked down near me. 

I turned to look and beheld — Oh, my God! A 
pal, but a second before a happy, enthusiastic young 
chap eager for the fray, now lying with a ghastly 
hole in his breast, his mouth opening and closing 
in a last gasp for breath. 

I knelt at once by his side and tried to staunch 
the flow of blood, but alas. His end had come. 

(49) 



50 THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 

Private Courtney, of Toronto, my comrade, the first 
of our regiment to give up his life for the cause. 

All that day we fought and men were being killed, 
wounded, maimed, and torn. Oh, the ghastly sight. 
What feelings of horror and pity the moans of the 
wounded caused. Then, too, the awful stench of 
the dead, the thirst and the misery suffered by the 
living, and with it all and seeing our comrades fall, 
we were discouraged, for we could not seem to ac- 
complish what we thought we should — we could not 
avenge. 

Shell fire, shell fire constantly, bringing utter 
desolation and misery, and I could not help exclaim- 
ing amidst it all — "Oh, my God ! And this, is war." 
"This is what we have been training to take a part 
in and have been longing to see." 

The command now came, "Pass the word along to 
fix bayonets, and move up in single file to support." 

It was now 11 P. M. and the shelling seemed to 
have stopped. As we were about to "move up" our 
thoughts were of the wounded and the dead. Some 
of us remarked, "Are we going to leave the wounded 
here?" "Are we not going to bury the dead?" 
And then we thought of ourselves and wondered 
where we were going and why we could not smoke. 

We move, we creep on and on,\ as it seems for 
ages. We pass what were but a short time ago 
active, fighting soldiers, now lying in all attitudes 
as they had fallen. 



THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 51 

All that I saw and experienced now made me sick 
at heart and weary. I wished to be away from it 
all and back home where I could again follow the 
quiet and peaceful pursuits of civilian life, and for- 
get, if possible, this day of horror. Then I remem- 
bered the gas at Ypres, the shattered convent at 
Merrie, the grave of Sister Marie, and my oath to 
avenge her death ; the graves of the little, innocent 
school children slaughtered and buried there; the 
awful sights of the previous day at Festubert, and 
with such thoughts racing through my brain I for- 
got self and took new courage and said: "No, my 
duty is here." I prayed God for strength and that 
I be allowed "to carry on" until I had killed some 
of the cruel enemy, — the beastly and hated Hun. 

It was here that we of our regiment won our first 
decorations. I will try, as best I can, to describe 
our position. 

We were in what is known as the support trench 
— that is, the first line of trenches immediately be- 
hind the front line. This line the day previous had 
been the original front line of the Germans, and 
had been captured by the Tenth and the Eighth 
batallions of the Canadian infantry, with the assist- 
ance of the Post Office Rifles of London, England. 
When the Huns had been forced out their dead and 
wounded were left behind, as we found. 

We were resting here waiting for orders to ad- 



52 THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 

vance, when a message was passed down the line — 
"A runner wanted at headquarters dugout." 

No one seemed to have volunteered for the job 
up to the time the message reached me, and not 
knowing just what a "runner" was supposed to do, 
but thinking, naturally, that it would give me a 
chance to move about, I did not pass the message 
on but accepted the job. I thought, too, if they 
needed one who could run, that "run" was about my 
middle name and the job of "runner" was just the 
job in this war game that I could fill. 

I at once made my way back to the reserve line 
and reported to Colonel Nellis at the headquarters 
dugout. 

I wonder if I can describe, for the benefit of the 
reader, what such a dugout, as I saw it in May, 
1915, was like. Simply a square hole in the ground 
protected on the top by beams and sheet metal cov- 
ered with bags filled with sand. Sand bags were 
also piled about the opening, or entrance, leaving 
just a narrow gap for passage to and fro. 

When I appeared at the entrance of this dug- 
out I wore no cap, had lost my sirge (jacket), one 
puttie was gone and over my shoulder I carried my 
rifle, but without bayonet or ammunition. 

As I presented myself at the entrance described, 
I was hailed from within with the question, "Hello! 
What do you want ?" 



THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 53 

"Headquarters dugout, sir," I answered. 

"This is it. Who are you?" came the reply. 

I answered, "Private Jones, Machine Gun Section, 
sir, R. C. D. I am reporting here as a runner." 

"Oh, you are the runner, are you?" continued my 
inquisitor. 

"Yes, sir," said I. 

At this the officer who had carried on the conver- 
sation with me turned to another officer and said. 

"By the way, Major Elemsley, has that runner 
of the Post Office Rifles reported back yet from 
Colonel MacDonald's dugout over by K-5 ?" 

"No, sir. Telephone advice from there informs 
me that he was killed about ten minutes ago by a 
sniper," replied the major. 

This was interesting information for me, but I 
assure you it did not cause me to think quite so 
favorably of the job I had volunteered to perform. 
I now felt my hair rising and my feet growing cold, 
but nevertheless I tried to give the impression I 
was brave and forced a laugh to confirm, as far as 
possible, this deception. 

I think I succeeded in impressing the officers I 
was brave enough to perform the required duties, 
otherwise, I believe I would have been sent back 
with orders to have another runner detailed. At 
least I was now asked — 

"Do you know the location of the Lord Strath- 

cona Horse, Jones?" 



54 THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 

As a matter of fact I did not, but I dared not con- 
fess my ignorance and so replied, "Yes, sir." 

My orders then were, "You will conduct Captain 
Bell, who has taken charge of B Squadron, R. C. D.'s 
there." 

"Very good, sir," I replied. 

Captain Bell thereupon saluted his superior officer 
and, turning to me, said — 

"All right, Jones, let us go." 

We started and Colonel Nellis followed us out, 
saying he would show us a short cut. Good old 
Nellis, I thought, I will now be saved some embar- 
rassment in finding the dugout. As we proceeded 
the colonel gave us all kinds of instructions, to 
which we listened intently. 

We soon came near a gap in the trench when the 
colonel cautioned, "Now be careful, for there is a 
sniper watching who has been firing on this hole 
aell night." The dead we saw lying there, seven in 
all, fully testified to the sniper's attention to duty 
and to his skill as a marksman. 

The colonel continued to walk straight ahead, 
however, quite unconcerned, until he came to the 
gap in question, when he bent down almost double. 
Then "ping," a bullet struck just ahead of him. 
"Close one, eh?" he remarked. Captain Bell made 
no reply, but I felt I knew what his thoughts were. 
He went safely across the danger line. Then it was 
my turn. 



THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 55 

I was not possessed of courage enough to walk 
across as he had done, so I went back about ten 
feet and took a running dive, falling full length 
across the gap, landing on my stomach and making, 
as I did so, a fearful noise. Disturbed and alarmed 
by my conduct and noise, Captain Bell came running 
back and asked, "Are you hit, Jones?" I replied, 
"No, sir, I just tripped over a wire and have only 
injured my leg a bit, I guess." He said, "Oh, that's 
a mere trifle, come on." Colonel Nellis here left us 
after wishing us Godspeed and good luck. 

Captain Bell now said, "You had better lead, 
Jones, as you know the way." Lead I did. I took 
the captain through a maze of trenches and finally 
came to a point outside of a trench from which we 
heard voices. We halted here and Captain Bell said, 
"Are they Germans?" 

"You can search me," I replied. 

Luck was with us, for it was a British trench. 
Our presence had been noted, for now we heard 
someone say, "Don't shoot them. Let us find out 
who they are." Immediately there was directed to 
us the question — 

"Who in Hell are you fellows?" We replied 
and gave the password and were then directed how 
to gain entrance to the trench. 

Here we were shown where Colonel MacDonald's 
dugout was located. Captain Bell reported and was 
taken to the place where B Squadron was. 



56 THE BATTLE OF FESTUBERT 

People have had nightmares and many have ex- 
perienced other horrible things, but in my opinion 
such things, or even Dante's Inferno, cannot be com- 
pared to the horrors of that night. We left head- 
quarters dugout at 1 A. M. and arrived in K-5 at 
3 A. M. 

I was now dismissed from further duty on this 
detail and so finished my first job as a runner. 
When I again joined my section I was utterly weary 
and quite worn out — as the soldiers say, "Fed up." 




CHAPTER IX 

TAKING THE COUNT 

UST as the dawn was beginning to break 
on the morning following my experience 
as a runner, a message was passed 

down 

-■« 

"There's a man lying in front of 
Section C, wounded and calling for 
water. We learned that previous to this mes- 
sage reaching us an attempt had been made by five 
men to bring the wounded soldier to safety and for 
treatment, and that in each case the would-be res- 
cuer had been picked off by a German sniper. 

Sergeant Holloway at once volunteered to make 
the attempt to bring the man in. He secured some 
bandages, and taking a mouthful of water for the 
wounded man, climbed over the top and proceeded 
toward him. 

Through a periscope we watched the sergeant 
crawl out and over on his errand of mercy. We saw 
him reach the man and when about to pick him up, 
saw him fall. Later we learned he had been shot 
through the abdomen. 

<57) 



58 TAKING THE COUNT 

At this Corporal Pimm, a close friend of the ser- 
geant (also since killed), went to the assistance of 
the sergeant, with the intention of bringing him in. 

Through the periscope we watched him also safely 
cover the distance between the trench and the 
wounded man. When Pimm reached the side of the 
wounded man we saw him crawl over and on top of 
the corporal's back. Then commenced a long and 
dangerous crawl of the two men back to safety. 

We now, for the purpose of attracting the Ger- 
mans' attention toward us and to force Fritz to keep 
his head down to a point where he could not effec- 
tively witness the rescue, began firing at random 
our machine guns and rifles. Corporal Pimm in 
time safely reached and crawled through the gap 
in the wire and into our trenches with his man. As 
soon as he could do so he gasped out, "They have 
killed Holloway. Someone go and get him." Since 
he was dead this was considered unnecessary and to 
have attempted it would have been foolhardy in 
view of the great danger. 

As soon as word was passed along that Pimm 
had succeeded in bringing back the wounded man, a 
sigh of relief was felt and a cheer rent the air. 

The wounded soldier soon died, but before he did, 
he informed us he had been shot through the stom- 
ach while on patrol, and had lain there for four 
days and nights. His last words were, "Thanks, 
boys. Just carry on." 




«mi 






TAKING THE COUNT 59 

Corporal Pimm, I am glad to say, was mentioned 
in dispatches for bravery, and a month later was 
decorated by the king with the distinguished con- 
duct medal, the second highest honor a soldier can 
earn. 

It was while in this trench I saw what is known 
as the "soldier's ghastly comedy." 

Picture, if you can, an all night of fighting, and 
yourself at six A. M. in a trench just vacated by 
the Germans. Our shell fire during the night had 
worked such havoc amongst the enemy that they 
had been able to and did, for the want of sufficient 
sand bags, use the bodies of their dead in place of 
bags and for the same purpose. 

Such a picture was before us on a morning we 
occupied the trench in question. It was one by no 
means pleasant, I assure you, but the life of a sol- 
dier is to smile and carry on under all conditions, 
and it is well they can do so, and that there are 
some who can see the humorous side even to a 
tragedy. 

Among our men was one such, in the person of 
Corporal Lees, who was quite a wit and was always 
smiling and helping others to do so. Upon entering 
this trench, with the German dead piled along the 
top, he proceeded to walk up and down noting and 
making some ridiculous or humorous remark con- 
cerning this or that dead German. He finally came 



60 TAKING THE COUNT 

over to where I was lying and said, "Gee, Bill, but 
you look as if you are all in." 

Then he turned about and exclaimed, "Holy 
Smoke, look who is here." There on the parapet, 
the subject of his jest, lay a dead young German 
soldier, with most of his skull gone. At this Lees 
grasped the forelock of the German's hair, slightly 
raising it and looking inside the German's skull, re- 
marked, "I knew Gal darn well this fellow had no 
brains or he wouldn't be here." 

Such is merely one incident of what we term the 
comedy of the trenches. It produces a laugh, even 
in the midst of the horror, and helps us to keep a 
light heart and carry on with a smile even under 
such conditions. 

We remained all that day in K-5, thirsty, weary 
and homesick. About four P. M., I, and two other 
men, were detailed to proceed back to headquarters 
with four German prisoners. 

While passing through a communicating trench 
on the way back we witnessed one of the funniest 
sights, of its kind, in all of our experience. Cor- 
poral McKay of the machine gun section, who dur- 
ing the previous day's bombardment had gone 
crazy, (commonly known as shell shock) had been 
sent back alone to the rear, but had lingered along 
the way, as we found, and when we came upon him 
was amusing himself in this crazy manner: — 



TAKING THE COUNT 61 

Picture to yourself a dead German in full uniform 
stretched out at length on his back on the bottom 
of a trench, and another man repeatedly jumping 
upon and off his stomach. This is what we wit- 
nessed and were at first at a loss to understand the 
purpose of such action on the part of McKay. We 
asked him to explain. 

With a hideous grin on his face, he said he was 
making the German throw up his hands, and sure 
enough he was. He proved this to us by repeating 
the act, and every time he jumped upon the Hun's 
stomach up would go his hands. 

Just another incident of the ghastly comedies of 
the trenches. We took charge of McKay and con- 
ducted him back to the dressing station from whence 
he was "packed off" to the hospital. 

While at headquarters we were informed our regi- 
ment would be relieved at eleven o'clock that night. 
We thereupon obtained permission from the doctor 
to collect water bottles and any other utensile that 
would hold water and go into the village of Festu- 
bert and fill them, which we did. 

At one A. M., the following morning, so much 
of the regiment as was left and able to do so, (about 
half its strength) came straggling into the village. 
We passed the water around among the tired and 
thirsty men and it was joyfully accepted and appre- 
ciated I can assure you. 
10 



62 TAKING THE COUNT 

The men who had packs on (but they were few) , 
threw them down and at once stretched themselves 
upon the ground completely exhausted, and in five 
minutes, more or less, all were sound asleep. 

The sun was streaming through the ruined village 
of Festubert when we were awakened and ordered 
back for rest and reinforcements. After another 
heartbreaking and weary march, we of the R. C. D.'s 
halted and camped in a field ten kilometers south of 
Locon. 

Soon after halting here we were ordered to again 
fall in and answer our names. The roll was called, 
and out of a squadron of one hundred and eighty 
men it was found but sixty-two responded to their 
names. 

After the parade was dismissed such remarks 
were heard among the men: — 

"Gee! He died game." 

"Did you see that chap pick up his own arm after 
it had been shot off and walk back with it to the 
dressing station?" 

"Did you see our padre carry the wounded back, 
and speaking to the dying and working like a nurse 
all day amongst the wounded?" "Good old padre." 

"Gee! but that is some doctor we have, working 
all the time right in the front line trenches easing 
pain, administering treatment, helping by quick ac- 
tion and with cheering words, and all the time smil- 
ing." 



TAKING THE COUNT 63 

"Poor old Holloway. Gee! but he died game." 
"He fought his last fight and took the count." (Hol- 
loway was the champion heavyweight boxer of our 
brigade, and his home was somewhere in our U. S. 
A.) 

"Poor little Courtney never knew what struck 
him." 

This was my first real experience of the awfulness 
of the war and its results. The impression it made 
I shall carry with me until I too take the count. 

It is strange though how soon a soldier for a time 
throws off his own personal feelings. Soon we were 
all laughing and chatting again as usual and won- 
dering where we would go next. 

We thought in those early days that we were to 
fight almost every day, but in this we were happily 
disappointed. We remained in camp in this field 
four days, and of the funny things I saw and heard 
while there I believe I could write a book. Just one 
case as illustrative of what I have in mind and which 
may interest the reader at this point, and help also 
to dispel thoughts of the horrors just described. 

"Can I borrow your candle, Bill?" 

"Sure thing, kid." I give the comrade my candle. 
He lights it. Then takes off his shirt and proceeds 
to annihilate all of his bosom friends which had be- 
come attached to him while in and had returned 
with him from the trenches, viz — body lice, com- 
monly known in the army as "Grey backs," or "Coo- 
ties." 



64 TAKING THE COUNT 

There has been no time during our stay in France, 
except when on leave, that we have been free of 
vermin. But as time goes on we, in a way, become 
accustomed to them and to their activity on and 
about our anatomy, yet we are always glad to part 
companionship with them at the first opportunity, 
and really think about as much of them as we do 
of the Germans. 

After all, they are not such bad creatures, for 
aside from detracting our attention at times from 
other troubles, they provide us with the means of 
a most unusual and amusing sport, known among 
the men as "a trench steeplechase." 

It is carried on in this fashion: Take a piece of 
thread, hold one end and let a comrade hold the 
other. Then each secures his own pet louse and 
places it on his end of the thread. At once begins 
a very exciting race — the lice "are off," and natu- 
rally crawl along the thread towards each other, 
meeting somewhere near the center. At meeting 
they engage in a fight for the right of way and 
during the fight will rear up and one will eventually 
fall off. The owner of the one remaining on the 
thread wins the race, proving also his louse to be 
the superior, in fighting at least. 

Also in connection with these little busy bodies 
one will often hear such remarks as — 'Til give you 
two little ones for a big one." Or, a fellow will put 
his hand inside his shirt and bring forth a very 



TAKING THE COUNT 65 

little one, look at it, and with a sorrowful expres- 
sion place it back with the remark, "Poor little 
sucker, I won't kill you until you are good and fat." 

Such were some of our experiences and sport in 
the year 1916. 

It was while in camp here we received our first 
mail from Canada. 




CHAPTER X 

THE MAIL BAG 

ERE is the mail." "I wonder if there 
is a letter for me." 

Such are the happy exclamations of 
the men upon the arrival of home mail. 
Off we go and collect as closely as 
possible around the non-commissioned 
officer who has charge of the mail and its distribu- 
tion. 

The officer soon commences to call out the names 

of the lucky ones — "Private ," "Corporal 

," "Sergeant ," and so on through 

the batch of mail emptied out of the mail bag. 

The officers, non-commissioned officers and men's 
mail all come in the same bag, and before going any 
further on this subject, let me pay a deserved com- 
pliment to the post office service of the British Em- 
pire, which as early as 1915, was good, and which 
improved as the years rolled on. Ask any soldier 
in France what he thinks of the post office service 
and he will look at you and say, "Why that postal 
service of our's is the best thing that ever hap- 
pened." 

(66) 



THE MAIL BAG 67 

Daily our mail arrives, and no matter where we 
are, whether it be in the front line, in support or 
in reserve, or elsewhere in France, the post office 
authorities will find us and deliver our bit of greet- 
ings from home, provided we are above ground. 
Just an illustration— I had letters addressed simply 
in this manner, "William R. Jones, R. C. D., Some- 
where in France," and they were delivered to me in 
good time. Can you beat it? You can't, I am quite 
sure. 

Let us return to the mail bag and see what it 
brings and what happiness its bounty gives the poor 
lonely homesick soldier. For instance — 

A boy receives a letter. He first looks at the post- 
mark and if it's a letter from home he hastily opens 
it and reads and re-reads and then hands it to his 
pal, and perhaps, usually, both laugh. 

Perhaps the bag brings a photo of his baby, or 
of his wife, his mother, or sweetheart, or of some- 
one else near or dear to him, it matters not which, 
and in either case he will then go away by himself 
and there gaze upon it and possibly kiss it and hug 
it to his breast. Then his thoughts will travel far 
away and over the sea to the subject of the picture, 
and he will dream of the time he last was with that 
person. 

I cannot, of course, tell just exactly what that 
boy thinks in such case, but if just this happened 
to me, which at times it fortunately did — as for 



68 THE MAIL BAG 

instance when the mail bag brought a photo of my 
wife and child, I can say I acted in quite a similar 
manner and my thoughts went back far across the 
seas which separated us, and I could picture myself 
once more at home. Then too I wondered whether, 
after all, I did the right thing in leaving wife and 
child. 

I confess I felt at the time some remorse, and 
with it, was torn by the thought, and I asked my- 
self the question, "Which really comes first, love 
of home and family, or love of country and duty?" 
At times when such thoughts came up I regretted 
having left my country and home, but as time passed 
and the matter of country and duty was so con r 
stantly before my eyes and in my thoughts, I grad- 
ually thought more of country, and I thanked God 
for having had the conviction and the courage to 
say, "Duty, duty to my country, first, last and 
always." I have since felt and now feel that if one 
is true to that duty he must, after all, be serving, 
as well, the best interest of home and family. I 
am very sure my comrades, one and all, at times 
had similar thoughts and felt this same way. 

At times the mail bag would disappoint us, and 
if I happened to receive no mail I at once felt lonely 
and had something of a feeling that I cared not par- 
ticularly whether I lived or died. On such occasions 
I would imagine I had been forgotten by those at 
home, and that no one, after all, really cared. I 



THE MAIL BAG 69 

would also then be grgouchy, and generally sulky 
with my good comrades even, and under those con- 
ditions not only make myself miserable but those 
around me. 

To you who read this, let me say, never be too 
busy to write to your boy "over there." Write and 
send something on each mail, a post card at least, 
or a newspaper, but a letter if possible. Make your 
letters cheery always. Dwell on all the nice things 
yau can think of to tell him. Tell him how the 
baby is, if he is so lucky as to have one, how it 
is growing and how it has commenced to say "Papa," 
perchance. Tell him everything of interest that is 
going on at home which would be good for him to 
know about. Give him a little of the town gossip, 
if you wish. In other words, make your letters 
just as bright and cheery as possible, speaking of 
and dwelling only on the pleasant things of life, 
keeping to yourself your own troubles, for he has 
more than his share of such to bear himself, even 
under the most favorable circumstances. 

Don't wish him back home, at least don't express 
such a wish in your letter. Say simply, "when you 
come back home," etc., and in that way you will 
make him feel more optimistic about ever returning. 

A letter along something of these lines, I can 

assure you, is a thing of joy to your boy, so keep on, 

and on, writing and cheering and encouraging him 

in this way. A parcel or a package is an "event" 

11 



70 THE MAIL BAG 

in his life. Such brings a joy which he can share 
with his pals, and though it is appreciated fully and 
iar more than you can imagine, and though the 
package may contain good things to eat and fags 
to smoke, still they do not last long. But a letter, 
what is it? A scrap of paper and some ink, merely? 
No, it is something more, much more than that to 
the boy, more even than pen can describe. It is 
something that touches and in some unexplainable 
way causes a tender and a happy feeling to sink 
into the innermost cells of the heart. It is some- 
thing that is kept and brought out and pored over 
and almost devoured at times when the boy, — your 
own boy, — is feeling homesick and longing for just 
one moment with you in person. 

I have known men, including myself, to keep and 
carry more than fifty home letters about from day 
to day. Why? Because they are almost home 
to him. The nearest thing to home that he can 
possess while a soldier, so far away from home. 
They contain and represent all he holds most dear. 
They mean love, home, and encouragement to live 
and to "smile and carry on" until the end. 

I am supposed to write a book on the; war, rather 
than preach a sermon or attempt at moralizing, but 
how could I refrain from dwelling on the letter from 
home. And I could not pass the dear, good old mail 
bag, surely, without singing its praises. Now 
Could I? 




CHAPTER XI 

AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 

E ARE off again fully reinforced and 
feeling like veterans. By this time we 
had become accustomed to our packs 
and I think we were really veterans, 
for a month of service in France makes 
veterans of all. 
In time we arrived at a place called La Perol, 
near Givenchy, on the La Basse canal. This was 
in June, 1915. Although only about three kilo- 
meters from the front line of trenches, we found 
the village still occupied by the villagers, who, 
much to our surprise, had remained and gave us a 
hearty welcome, we felt assured from their actions, 
though as yet we could not understand or speak 
much French, except by the aid of a French-English 
dictionary. 

Our first night in the village was peaceful and 
quiet and were able to almost forget that there was 
a war on, except as the fact was brought to our 
mind by the continual string of transports that 
seemed to pass to and fro continually day and night. 
We also saw the famous French seventy-five cen- 
(71) 



72 AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 

timeter guns. Howitzers, and guns of all calibre 
and description pass through the village. On the 
whole however, aside from such evidences of war- 
fare, things were quite normal about the village 
and we were fairly happy and content. 

We, the Fourth troop, were camping in the yard 
of a farmer. About four o'clock on the afternoon 
of the day following our arrival, we were surprised, 
as well as interested, in seeing the farmer bring a 
small pig out to the center of his yard and there 
kill and then roast it over a fire in the open. Noth- 
ing particularly strange or worth noting in that you 
will no doubt say. Perhaps not, but on a clear still 
day smoke will rise to a great height, you know. 

About seven o'clock that night we were shelled 
by the Germans for about fifteen minutes, with the 
result that two civilians were wounded and several 
transport horses killed. Among ourselves, however, 
there were no casualties. With this shelling we 
began to wonder at what we had seen that after- 
noon and began to sit up and take notice, as the 
saying goes. 

At about one o'clock on the following afternoon 
the same thing occurred. Another small pig was 
brought out, killed and roasted as before, the smoke 
ascending from the open fire. Very strange conduct 
we thought, and in our minds arose the question, 
"Are we to be shelled again?" Sure enough, at 
about five o'clock that afternoon we were shelled. 



AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 73 

At the time I was standing with a number of 
other men listening to our padre tell some funny 
stories. We heard the shell coming and looking saw 
it explode in the center of the village street. Wil- 
liam Reader, one of our men (known as "Caribou 
Bill," clutched his breast and we saw blood pouring 
through his fingers. We were both surprised and 
shocked to see that one of our men had been hit, 
and when the next moment Bill stretched up his 
arms and said, "Good bye boys," we were awake to 
the fact that he had been seriously injured. 

We went at once to his assistance and did all we 
could for him. Major Todd, D. S. 0., who was our 
doctor, examined the wound and then shook his 
head and said, "He is done for." Lieutenant Wal- 
ker, now Colonel, also came over at this point and 
bending over the prostrate form of the poor man 
said, "Good bye Bill. You have played the game, 
and played it well, old boy." 

Bill could only smile in answer, being unable to 
utter a word, though God knows he tried hard to 
speak. 

We now looked up and beheld the Padre coming 
toward us with what appeared to be a bundle of 
rags in his arms, but which proved to be a baby 
of but four months old. Its mother we now saw 
had been killed by the same shell which had hit poor 
Bill. The baby also had been injured but still lived. 

The Padre brought the child over and lay it on 



74 AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 

the ground beside our Bill. What a sight it pre- 
sented, and with it what an example of the mys- 
terious and unexplainable course of life, — there a 
soldier, forty-five years of age, a man who had pros- 
pected, endured hardship and had lived practically 
a life of adventure, and had at last come to France 
to die such a death, while by his side lay the poor 
innocent, harmless babe of but a few months of 
life who deserved no such fate and certainly could 
not understand the meaning of it all. 

There they lay to die together from and for the 
same cause. Bill died first, and just before the 
baby died it seemed to try to turn over on its side 
and to clutch old Bill by the arm as if to go with 
him into the unknown world. 

Oh, what a pitiful sight! The Padre, who was 
a man of God, now knelt beside the two lifeless 
bodies and lifting his right hand with clenched fist 
toward Heaven cried out, "Oh my God! Will you 
allow such fiends to live?" 

Then turning to the boys who had gathered about 
he exclaimed, "Boys! Bill was your pal and mine. 
This baby and its dead mother represent France. 
What are you here for? Fight on boys and kill. 
Fight these fiends as you would fight the devil." 

With such sights before him, can you wonder that 
a soldier becomes a beast — a fiend too, possibly, and 
swears when he is fighting, and sometimes too when 
he is not so occupied? 



AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 75 

My answer is, go to France and see the sights 
he must witness. Look and see and read some of 
the inscriptions to be found upon the wooden crosses 
of our fallen comrades. 

Go where you will, from Belgium beginning at 
Ypres to the La Basse Canal, and you will find 
countless simple little wooden crosses which mark 
the place where lie the bodies of both soldiers and 
civilians who have already given their lives in this 
awful struggle to save the world from such a "Kul- 
tur." 

We were satisfied by this time that something 
was seriously wrong near by, and began to investi- 
gate conditions about. We had strong suspicions 
as to where the blame for this tragedy rested, and 
these led us to visit the farmer who on two occa- 
sions had thought fit to kill and roast a pig, on both 
of which we had been shortly after shelled. 

The farmer was placed under arrest and his house 
and premises searched, with the result that wires 
were found leading from his cellar out and beyond 
the village. The wires had been destroyed by shell 
fire but apparently led, originally, to and communi- 
cated with the German trenches. Now that they 
were worthless as a means of communication, the 
fire and smoke was, without doubt, a prearranged 
and understood signal to the Germans that troops 
were in the village. 



76 AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 

If you should visit the spot and look, you will 
find his grave at Le Perol. It was dug by himself 
and is marked, "Here lies a traitor to France." 
That's all. 

I sincerely hope when peace is once restored, that 
some ugly stone will be found and placed on his 
grave, and have chiseled thereon so deep that time 
can never efface the same, the above inscription as 
a lasting mark of dishonor to this kin of the Beast 
of Berlin, and as a warning to one and all that a 
like fate will surely befall the person who shall 
ever again betray his country or the cause of hu- 
manity and freedom. 

The next morning we were shelled out of the vil- 
lage, and the villagers accompanied us leaving be- 
hind all their worldly possessions, carrying nothing 
with them but memories of a once peaceful village 
and a happy home. We were glad to leave the vil- 
lage I assure you. Such is war, full of surprises as 
well as of tragedies. 

The day following we marched back into the vil- 
lage to support an attack planned to be made that 
night. 

It was here that we entered the battle of Given- 
chy, a battle that has already been so much written 
about by military writers and war correspondents. 

My impressions of the attack at this time are 
rather hazy. We advanced into the village and 
went into a rudely constructed line of trenches in 



AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 77 

support to the 10th, 3rd and 8th Battalions of the 
Canadian Infantry. 

The imperial soldiers were on our left. The 
French on our right. The Canadians in the center. 
The Canadians were ordered to take the first line 
trenches, but exceeded their orders and took three 
lines, which of course, was a mistake, for our ter- 
ritory was then shelling the trenches which the 
Canadians were attacking. 

They had gone too far. Being now between two 
fires, the enemy's and our own, no support could 
reach them. We of the First Canadian Cavalry 
Brigade were held back. Why, I don't know. But 
General Seeley knew, and we all trusted him. 

During this engagement the wounded kept com- 
ing back and many a ghastly sight we beheld. I 
saw a man of the 10th battalion with both eyes 
gone, being assisted to the rear by two wounded 
men, one a Gordon Highlander but the other I could 
not distinguish. The blind Canadian as he walked 
was singing "God Save the King" and "Heaven Bless 
the Maple Leaf Forever." This man was a soldier, 
true and brave, wounded and suffering, yet still 
"Carrying on" singing and smiling. 

From now on our experiences were strenuous and 
full of activity, but I will not dwell long on them or 
on our many marches from place to place. It will 
be sufficient to say, that we saw action as infantry- 
men in such places as Ypres, Langemarck, Messines, 



78 AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 

Dickibuch, Ploesteert, Givenchy and Festubert, and 
that for nine weary months we fought as infantry- 
men. 

During all this time I am sure we proved to the 
world that a cavalryman can fight just as well on 
foot as on horseback. We were taught to bomb, 
to fight with bayonet, the proper handling of ma- 
chine guns of all calibres, to dig trenches, put up 
wire entanglements, make dugouts, etc. 

Go anywhere in France you may, where we as 
infantrymen have been, and you will find the handi- 
work of the Canadian Cavalry Brigade. In such 
territory you will see such names as — "Dragoon 
Alley," "Nellis' Walk/' "K. E. H. Terrace," "Strath- 
cona Walk," etc. 

As infantrymen we also saw all the phases of 
trench life and experienced all the miseries and joys 
that go with it. But all the time our natural long- 
ing and ambition was to be mounted again — to be 
in the saddle with boot and spurs. 

It was Christmas, 1915, that General Seeley, in 
a very stirring speech in keeping with the yule- 
tide spirit, gladdened our hearts by informing us 
that we were going back down the line and there 
receive our horses. 

Oh my! What cheering, and what shouting and 
aancing greeted this announcement, but the gen- 
eral soon added, "We still have a little job to do 
here first. We are going to make a raid on the 



AT LA PEROL AND GIVENCHY 79 

Messines road and take over the old line of trenches 
at Messines before going back. 

We were now at Aldershot Huts, just behind the 
Neuve Eglise. It was here in this engagement, 
while attacking a German listening post that I was 
slightly wounded receiving a bayonet wound in my 
left shoulder, in consequence of which my fighgfing 
days as an infantryman were ended. 




CHAPTER XII 

HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

.HE WOUND I received was not serious. 
My equipment had saved me a nasty, 
and possibly a mortal wound, neverthe- 
less, it gave me much pain and I suf- 
fered considerable loss of blood before 
reaching the dressing station. 
Dr. Todd examined the wound, dressed it, then 
put a tag on my shoulder with these remarks writ- 
ten on, "Slight bayonet wound, walking case. 

A number of our chaps were also having wounds 
dressed. Some were laughing and joking and ap- 
peared in high glee, while others more seriously 
wounded lay perfectly still. The latter, of course, 
were stretcher cases. 

We were all covered with mud and in just the 
condition we left the front but gloried in it. We 
who were but slightly wounded were overjoyed at 
the thought of going out. We had visions of a clean 
bed, good things to eat, surely a bath, and very 
likely some pretty girls who could speak English 
and would talk to and look after our wants. 

(80) 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 81 

A motor ambulance in time drove up, and six 
walking cases, which included myself, were placed 
aboard. We had discarded most of our kit keeping 
but one haversack with such trifles as a razor, towel 
and soap, some letters, and perhaps a few souvenirs 
which we held too sacred to part with. 

We were soon started and on our way bumping 
over broken roads and through the mud, gradually 
leaving behind us the sound of guns and the glare 
of star shells. On the way out we passed infantry- 
men going up who shouted to us, "Oh you lucky 
dog! How would you like to change places?" 
"Have you got a Blighty?" "Give my regards to 
the folks in Blighty." (Blighty being the soldiers' 
term for England.) 

We rode in the ambulance for about two hours, 
and the bumping of the old car over the rough 
roads did not tend to make our wounds pain any 
less. 

I was quite sick before the journey ended and 
began to feel cold and miserable generally, and to 
make matters worse, one of the poor chaps aboard 
became hysterical. He began taking of home and 
finished by calling the Huns all the horrible names 
he could think of. His conduct was far from being 
pleasant, particularly to the ears of one in pain and 
with nerves already on edge. 

At last we arrived at what is known as a field 
hospital clearing station (7 Field A. Canadian, in 



82 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 



this case), situated in the town of Bailleul. We left 
the ambulance and entered the hospital and here 
enjoyed first real comforts since coming to France. 
First we had a real hot bath. Then our wounds 
were soon dressed and we were put on cots and 
fed hot soup, and, I believe, a little rum. Soon we 
were quite normal again except the poor chap who 
had become crazed. 




The next morning we were taken from the hos- 
pital and placed aboard a hospital train bound for 
a base hospital to receive further treatment and 
care. 

This train was a complete surprise to me in its 
make up and equipment. It was, in effect, a prac- 
tical moving hospital. 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 83 

Those of the wounded who could sit up were 
conducted to a modern parlor car, and such as were 
stretcher cases were placed in beds. I was also 
greatly surprised to see nurses aboard and at the 
sight of them felt ashamed of myself clothed as I 
was in such a dirty uniform. 

I was not the only one who was surprised or made 
remarks concerning the train and its appointments. 
Some of the remarks I heard were really quite 
amusing, for instance — One fellow said: "Golly, 
Blime mate, but this is some train." Another, a 
Canadian, remarked, "This is the first time I ever 
rode on the cushions in my life. ,> 

We had no sooner comfortably settled down in 
our seats, thoroughly contented and satisfied with 
our lot and in the belief we were in for a comfort- 
able ride, than a sweet voice behind me said, "Do 
you boys want any cigarettes ?" 

We instantly looked around and beheld the owner 
of the voice, and seeing immediately fell in love. 
There, standing in the doorway, was a nurse dressed 
in the cleanest and whitest garment I thought I had 
ever seen and wearing upon her breast the Red 
Cross. She surely was a dream, an angel, almost, 
she seemed to me. 

We were too surprised for the moment to exer- 
cise our power of speech and only gazed. She said, 
"Well, cannot you boys speak?" At that I replied, 
"Yes Sister." 



84 HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

"Well, do you care for any cigarettes?" She 
then repeated, at the same time holding out a packet 
of what are known as "Players' " cigarettes. I ac- 
cepted the package but as yet could not find the 
power, it seemed, to properly express myself or to 
thank her. The others (there were five of us in 
the car), simply stretched our their hands and also 
received a package. 

The nurse then left us and immediately we found 
our voices and recovered our power of speech and 
expressed our opinion of this "Angel of Mercy." 

"Gee, ain't she a peach!" exclaimed a Canadian. 

"Lor' love me, but ain't she a Queen?" said an 
Englishman. 

"Aye, she is a' thot and mare," said a Scotie. 

I wanted to see her again and so pushed a bell. 
She at once reappeared. 

"I beg your pardon, sister," I said, and repeated, 
"We would like to smoke but have no matches." I 
already felt myself blushing to the roots of my 
hair, and I knew that inwardly she was laughing 
at me. The others the while just sat back and de- 
voured her with their eyes. 

I felt she knew I was lying about having no 
matches, but she gave us a box and said she would 
bring us a cup of chocolate, which she soon did. We 
could have just stayed on that train for the dura- 
tion of the war and enjoyed every minute of the 
time, I assure you. 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 85 

Later I managed to get into conversation with 
one of the doctors and was informed by him that 
this train had been fitted out and fully equipped 
and all expenses connected therewith borne by the 
Order of St. John's. That all the nurses and order- 
lies had provided their own uniforms and received 
no pay for their services. 

Noble men and women, all, who left families and 
loved ones and gave up the comforts of home to 
devote their time, and lives as well, if need be, to 
care for and nurse the sick and wounded who were 
day and night coming in countless numbers from 
the fighting line. 

Oh, the sublime sacrifice made by these ministers 
of charity and the kindness and untiring devotion 
to duty displayed by these women, and through it 
all always appearing cheerful and ever smiling and 
shedding into the hearts of the men under their 
care little rays of sunshine and comfort. 

The recollection of their untiring, ceaseless, 
prompt and tender care day and night will be for- 
ever carried in the minds and thoughts of the thou- 
sands of men who have passed through their hands. 

I wish I were possessed with the power to do them 
something of the justice, to give them at this time 
something of the credit to which they are entitled, 
but no living mortal can ever, with pen or by voice 
begin to tell the world just how much they are doing 
and will have done for humanity in this awful strife. 
13 



86 HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

Poets may sing their praises, and writers pos- 
sessed with the greatest power of expression, may 
write to the fullest extent of their ability, and yet 
have passed through their hands can really know 
none but the men who have been so fortunate as to 
or understand. 

I can and do feel for them with all the feeling my 
heart is capable of, but I cannot express to you, 
dear reader, just that feeling as I would, and I can 
only add, God bless the Order of St. John's and all 
like organizations and their colleagues, and the 
Angels of Mercy, for the great work they are doing 
for humanity. 

We arrived in due time at Eataples, our destina- 
tion, and there saw with what system and how 
quickly the wounded were handled and cared for. 

Cars of all descriptions were waiting for us at the 
platform of the railway station. In less than twenty 
minutes the train had delivered its cargo of broken, 
maimed and sick men. Stretcher after stretcher 
was placed in the motor ambulances in waiting and 
hurried off to the different hospitals. 

I, with the other walking cases, was the last to 
be taken away. We were directed to and entered 
an old Ford car provided for transferring cases such 
as ours. A Canadian in the car with me, as soon 
as we were seated, said to the driver, "Home 
James." We were soon off and bumping and buz- 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 87 

zing along, laughing and quite happy and contented 
with our lot. 

Oh, who would not be wounded under such cir- 
cumstances. I, for one, was glad. Once more we 
were away from the shell fire and the sight of 
death and destruction. The sun was shining, there 
was no mud, we had a pocket full of fags, and before 
us was the certainty of a nice clean bed, three 
square meals a day, the pleasure of being waited 
upon and to be able to talk in good English. A pic- 
ture of Heaven would not have been more beautiful 
to us, for to our minds it surely was Heaven we 
were now going to in comparison to the place we 
had left. 

My stay in the hospital was full of pleasure, ro- 
mance and tragedy, to say the least. I had a nice 
clean bed, plenty to eat and the tenderest of care. 
I was really sorry when informed by the doctor one 
morning that I was well enough to leave the bed. 

Upon leaving the bed I was given a blue uniform 
and soon after permitted to go out and walk about 
the hospital grounds, and it was not long before I 
was perfectly well. 

While about the hospital as a convalescent, I was 
permitted to visit the operating rooms and witness 
the doctors and surgeons work upon their patients. 
I was also permitted to assist the nurses in certain 
cases, in caring for their wards, and in this I was 
more than amply paid in seeing them care for the 



88 HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

disabled and in the fact that I too was now doing 
something to aid my fellow beings to live rather 
than to die, a great satisfection it gave me, I must 
assure you. 

In connection with this work I saw the nurses 
administer not only medicine, but what seemed more 




One of the "Angels of Mercy " 

important even, sympathy. They seemed to pass 
from bed to bed as noiselessly as some spirit, sim- 
ply. If a patient was in pain she would speak to 
and soothe him and soon he would seem to forget 
his suffering. It was almost as though some fairy 
had wafted a magic wand that dispelled pain and 
misery when this tender care was administered. 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 89 

I should like to picture, if I have the ability, one 
of the hospital scenes I witnessed. 

A boy is lying very near death. The doctors have 
"passed him up," as they say in such a case. He 
grows very quiet now and then begins to speak. 
In his mental wanderings he must have thought 
himself back in the dear old home and with his 
mother, for he says: "Good old ma, you're glad 
Jackie went to war, aren't you?" 

"You won't cry, will you, mama?" 

"Your little Jackie fought well." 

"Oh, mama ! I am glad to die. The pain is awful, 
it hurts me so." 

And then he begins to scream aloud in his suffer- 
ing. The scream soon dies away and he moans for 
a time. 

A sister — God bless her, she is always there in 
such cases — stands at his head. She places her 
cool, white hand on his brow and he becomes quiet 
again. 

A priest (a Canadian), now takes the boy's hand 
and shows him a cross. At once a wonderful light 
seems to cross his face and he begins to speak quite 
rational, and then he exclaims, with what strength 
he has, "Oh, we gave them Hell! Didn't we boys?" 
"Good old boys." "Good bye boys." Then his 
mind wanders again and he exclaims in a milder 
tone, "Hello, mama, Jackie is coming home." He 
12 



90 HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

now closes his eyes and, with a smile on his face, 
sleeps. 

It is all over with poor Jackie, this world of strife, 
trouble and suffering. The sister covers his face 
and I see a tear roll down her cheek. I try to sup- 
press my feeling but feel as though I am about to 
choke. The priest remains with the dead, offering 
a prayer for the repose of the departed spirit of 
brave little Jackie, who has gone to his last hime. 

This is but one of the pitiful scenes to be wit- 
nessed in the hospitals day and night. 

Whatever may have been the life of the man in 
the past, the soldier in the service is taught to live 
clean, to fight clean, to have clean thoughts as far 
as possible, and if he falls and need to die, to be as 
brave in the face of death as at any other time, 
and to die with clean thoughts and with a hope 
for a better life beyond. 

That's the kind of men they breed in the army 
today. They take sons of kings and of tramps and 
alike teach them first to be men and to live true and 
die nobly as soldiers and gentlemen. There is no 
no class, no creed or social distinction recognized. 
All are on a level and treated as men under all cir- 
cumstances. 

Good bye hospital. In time I was ordered to re- 
port at the C. O.'s office (commanding officer's) for 
examination, preparatory for discharge from the 
hospital. 



HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 91 

On being examined by a board of doctors my 
lungs were tested and otherwise I was thoroughly 
gone over and in the end I was pronounced fit. The 
C. 0. then took my hand and said, "Off you go, and 
the best of luck." 

I saw and heard some quite amusing things while 
in the examination rooms of the hospital during my 
examination for discharge. The men are in no 
hurry to leave its comforts when they know it 
means going back to mud, discomforts, misery and 
danger. Consequently some such things occur, at 
least they did in my presence — 

A man was being examined, and the doctor said 
to him, "You say you cannot see very well?" "No 
sir, I can't," he replied. "How far can you see," 
continued the doctor. "Not very far, sir." "Can 
you see three hundred yards?" "Oh, no sir." 
"Can you see two hundred yards away?" "No 
sir." "Well, then you can see one hundred yards?" 
"I — Ithink so, sir," stammered the man. "Well 
then," said the doctor, "you'll be all right. Where 
you are now going the Germans are but fifty yards 
away. Off you go, and the best of luck." And the 
doctor turns his attention to the next man. 

Another case — This man is also trying to "swing 
the lead," as the saying is, with his eyes. The doc- 
tor holds up at some distance an article and asks 
him to tell what it is. "I can't see it, sir," replies 
the man. After picking up and trying him on a 



92 HOSPITAL TRAIN AND HOSPITAL 

number of small articles with the same evidence of 
nearsightedness as displayed by the man, the doctor 
suddenly holds up a large dinner pail, and asks, 
"What is this?" "Oh, that is an American nickel, 
sir." His examination is ended at this, and he too 
goes up the line with "best of luck," where he will 
perhaps have to use his eyes to good advantage. 

I left the hospital the day following my examina- 
tion and was soon back in the harness clad in a new 
uniform and with an entire new equipment. 




CHAPTER XIII 

I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 

LEFT for the hospital in December, 
1915, just after Christmas, and was 
absent from the regiment about two 
months. 

My journey back was far from being 
as interesting or romantic as it had 
been going to the hospital, and good reason, for the 
return was made in a box car, and you can hardly 
imagine one being able to find either interest or 
romance under such conditions. About six men 
from different regiments made up the party sent 
up the line in this way and at this time. 

I was informed our brigade was now out of line 
and back in billets, and so looked forward to a period 
of quiet and peace, for which I was thankful. 

Reaching the brigade I was ordered to report for 
duty to the officer commanding "B" squadron and 
then became attached to the Fourth troop, com- 
monly known in our regiment as the "Black Troop," 
not because the men were black, of course, but for 
14 (93) 



94 I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 

the reason that in pre-war days this troop had all 
black horses. 

Naturally it took me but a short time to get set- 
tled and used to my new surroundings and ac- 
quainted with the men. At this time we were bil- 
leted in the small village of Freeacourt, a place situ- 
ated near the summer resorts of Ault and La Tree- 
port. The country here was both peaceful and pic- 
turesque and our work interesting and somewhat 
exciting, though minus the hardships and horrors 
of war. 

Prior to my return to the regiment it had re- 
ceived its horses and so I found a mounted unit 
once more and the men accordingly quite happy. 
The horses had been sent from England and I never 
saw a finer lot of cavalry horses. With them the 
men were already in love and they would go about 
asking their comrades and officers such questions 
as these: — "Have you seen my horse?" "He is 
a dark bay about sixteen hands, and has a white 
star on his head and a white off hind fetlock," or 
similar descriptions, according to the horse. 

Among the horses were about forty of those we 
had while in England and if a boy found his old 
horse he was not long in applying to his command- 
ing officer for the possession of his old friend, a 
request that was never refused. I was not fortu- 
nate enough to find my old horse, which I had named 
Kitchener, though I looked for him and was disap- 



I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 95 

pointed, anjl envied the men who did receive their 
old mounts. 

It was interesting to see the men who did obtain 
their own horses throw their arms about their necks 
and talk to them as they might have done to a long 
lost brother. Some such remarks were made in 
such cases, as : — "And what have they been doing 
to the old fellow since I left you in England?" 4 T11 
bet you missed me old man." "Why how thin you 
have got." "I would like to find the brute that put 
those spur marks on your belly." "Never mind, you 
and I are going to see this thing through together 
after all, are we not, old man?" 

Yes a man soon learns to love a horse or a dog, 
and under certain circumstances most anything with 
life. I have known the men to carry about with 
them a little kitten that they might just have some- 
thing to love. But a horse to a cavalryman is a 
friend and a pal, and a good cavalryman will never 
abuse him. He may punish him, but abuse him 
never, and soon the horse comes to know and love 
his rider equally as well I believe. There is really 
but one horse in the army, and that is the one you 
own. His comfort will be looked after first at all 
times and under all circumstances. 

In giving out the horses to the men seniority 
was considered, and I being one of the old, or orig- 
inal, men of the regiment obtained a very good 
choice in the horse I first received, but I will tell 



96 I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 

you how I obtained the horse I possessed and rode 
until the battle of the Somme. 

Jack Hind had received a horse which, to all ap- 
pearances, was a mild, peaceful animal. He at once 
saddled and mounted it without difficulty. Then 
without apparent reason the horse made a jump 
and next we saw horse and Jack flying through the 
village street, Jack holding to the front arch of the 
saddle like grim death to keep from being thrown. 

Jack was not as yet what would be called an ex- 
pert rider, and as he went down the street kept 
shouting, "Whoa, whoa, you son-of-a-gun," to which 
the horse paid little or no attention, unless it was 
to increase its speed and effort to rid itself of the 
rider. Attracted by the shouting and the scene the 
street was soon lined with Tommies who were en- 
joying the excitement and all the time shouting 
and giving to Jack all kinds of encouraging and com- 
forting advice, as, for instance: — 

"Stick it old man." "Ride her Jack." "Whoop 
her up." "Hang on Jack." 

A sergeant also took a hand in the fun and bawled 
out, "Where in hell are you going with that horse?" 

Another asked Jack to send him a post card when 
he arrived to let him know where he was and how 
he enjoyed the trip. 

This excitement lasted but a few minutes, and 
how long the horse would have continued to run 
or Jack to hang on I do not know, had fate not 



I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 97 

placed in the way one of those village ponds so con- 
mon in France. 

Reaching the pond the horse stopped dead, stiff- 
legged, at which Jack shot from his back as though 
fired from a gun and continued to travel through 
space for a short distance landing finally with a 
great splash in the dirty, slimy pond. The horse, 
rid of its rider, seemed to have gotten over its desire 
to travel and now just bent its neck and drank from 
the pond as unconcerned as though it had had no 
other purpose in making the trip than to secure a 
drink. 

I was attracted to the horse by the spirit it dis- 
played, and while she was drinking I saw my oppor- 
tunity to secure her. I went up to her and without 
any difficulty secured hold of the bridle and began 
making quite a fuss over her which seemed to 
please her and to give her confidence and trust in 
me. 

I now called to Jack, who was just emerging from 
his forced bath, and asked if he was ready to mount 
again and continue his ride. "You can go to hell, 
and take that son-of-a-gun of a horse with you 
too," he answered. 

I had by this time taken quite a fancy to the 
horse and felt I would like to possess her for my 
mount, so I struck for a horse trade while condi- 
tions appeared right. I said, "All right, I am a 
sport. If you do not want this horse I will let you 
have my horse. Will you trade?" 



98 I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 

"Sure," he replied, and continued. "You fix it 
and I'll take that 'old skate* of your's that you call 
a horse." 

I immediately took the "Outlaw" to the stable, 
tied her up, off saddled and blanketed her, and by 
this time we were quite friends. I then went over 
and saw Lieutenant Moss, our troop officer, about 
the exchange. He had no objections, providing the 
arrangement was satisfactory to each party con- 
cerned. Things were soon arranged and I took pos- 
session of my new horse and saddlery. I at once 
named her "Springbuck," a name she well deserved, 
I felt. We soon became great friends and continued 
such until her death, an account of which I will give 
later on. 

Our stay in Freeacourt was, on the whole, most 
enjoyable. We had nice clean barns to sleep in and 
plenty of good food. We mingled freely with the 
villagers who treated us as citizens. We visited 
Ault, La Treeport, and all other places of interest 
about. Posed for our photographs, singly, in groups 
and with the natives. 

I will try, at this point, to give you some idea of 
what the life of a cavalry regiment in billets is like. 

Reville at 5:30 A. M. Stables at six o'clock, when 
we are required to clean the stables, brush down, 
water and feed the horses, and then get saddles 
ready for the morning parade. Breakfast at seven, 
which, as a rule, consisted of bacon, bread and tea. 



I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 99 

At 9:15 parade mounted, properly dressed, smart and 
clean, both man and horse. At this time off we 
would go to a nearby field and there ride and drill, 
and learn the use of sword while mounted and in 
charging. In the course of the drill we would trot, 
canter and gallop. This drill period usually finished 
about 10:30 or 11 o'clock, when we would ride back 
to stables with our blood tingling and feeling alto- 
gether quite happy and contented with everything 
in general. 

Upon return from drill we would commence what 
is known as noon stables. From 11 :30 until 1 P. M., 
our horses would be thoroughly groomed and then 
be inspected by the troop officer. After the horse 
had passed inspection we would clean and polish 
saddle, sword and rifle and put everything in shape 
for the next day. Next the horse would be watered 
and fed and by 1 P. M., the day's work would be 
over, except for such things as evening stables, 
when the horses had to be fed and watered, and 
perhaps an afternoon class, at times rather boring 
yet quite interesting providing the soldier was in- 
terested in learning and ambitious for advancement. 

At 5 P. M. we had tea, which consisted of bread 
(if we had any left), tea and jam and cheese. Occa- 
sionally the bill of fare changed and we then had 
jam and no cheese, or vice versa. 

It will be seen we had some time for pleasure 
while in billets and accordingly the time spent at 



100 I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 

Freeacourt was pleasant. During our leisure we 
would stroll through the village street, visit the 
cafes, drink white or red wine, and perhaps cham- 
pagne, if we had the price, the former we could buy 
at 1 franc 50c, or 25 cents for a quart bottle. The 
best champagne we could purchase at 5 francs, or 
a little less than a dollar. With our poor knowledge 
of French we could not pronounce "La Vin Blanch," 
so we would say, simply, "Vim Blink," and many 
other funny names in making our wants known, but, 
on the whole, we managed quite well to make our- 
selves understood and to get what we wanted. We 
also made love to every madamoiselle we saw and 
had little difficulty along this line though we could 
not talk much French. 

Wednesday afternoons we were generally given 
a half holiday, which we occupied in some form of 
sport — such as playing base ball, foot ball and at 
times polo. We never lacked for sport, and could 
always find or make a base ball and manage very 
well with a pick handle for a bat, and with such im- 
provised outfits played some really good and excit- 
ing games. Our games we termed "Inter-Troop 
games." The only difficulty we had in making up 
the outfit was in finding among the men one bold 
enough to umpire the game, and that was little to 
be wondered at, for no matter what decision the 
umpire rendered he was always considered wrong, 
and suffered the consequence. 



I RETURN TO THE REGIMENT 101 

The Canadians played their games in the same 
way they fought, — with enthusiasm and vim, put- 
ting their whole heart into whatever they did and 
enjoying, apparently, every phase of every game 
they played. In baseball, of course, they were the 
undisputed champions for the English, French and 
Belgian soldiers could not seem to play the game 
very well. In football naturally the Englishmen 
excelled, but just to show them that we could play 
their game as well, we organized a football team 
and played the game with so much success that we 
acquired a reputation of being football players also. 

At football we won many a hard fought game, 
defeating teams of the Tenth Battery of Artillery, 
Seventh D. G., First D. G. or King's Body Guard, 
and finally when we entered the Divisional league 
were defeated one goal to nil, not then, however, 
by an English team, but by a team of the Royal 
Canadian Horse Artillery. In this contest we played 
three times to get a decision. The first game was 
1 — 1; the second game no goals scored, and finally 
in the third the R. C. H. A. romped home with the 
bacon — one goal to nil. They deserved to win, and 
we shared the honor with them after all, for it was 
two Canadian teams that played off for the final, 
and a Canadian team that won the cup. 

While our life in France was at times very hard 
yet as I have tried to show there are times when a 
soldier experiences all of the pleasures of civilian 
life, at least it was so with us up to this time. 
15 




CHAPTER XIV 

WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 

HILE at Freeacourt we were in receipt 
of news daily from the front and learned 
the Huns were throwing their hordes 
against Verdun. We were able to and 
did follow with great interest every 
phase of the fighting. 
Our close association with the French people at 
home during these long and terrible months enabled 
us to see and know something of their anxiety and 
suffering, and to deeply sympathize with them, 
which we truly did. My sympathy went out in par- 
ticular to one Madame De Brey, an old woman who 
had lost her son and two grandsons within one week. 
I happened to be billeted on her farm. She seemed 
to me to be always crying, and during this battle 
would sit in an old wicker rocking chair in front of 
an old fashioned fireplace and rock to and fro and 
mutter to herself, "Mon de Dieu, Mon de Dieu. Oh 
La Mavis Guerre, and Moi Pavre Gascons, Moi 
Pavre Garsons Mort Pour La France La Sale Les 
Allemands." (Translated would be: — "Oh my 

(102 



WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 103 

God, Oh my God, Oh the awful war. My poor sons. 
My poor sons died for France. The dirty Germans." 

I tried, in my poor way, to comfort her and longed 
so much to be able to talk fluently to her in her 
own language. I wanted to comfort her and to tell 
her what a glorious thing it must be to be able to 
die for one's country, when it was fighting in such 
a noble cause, and how proud she should be and 
must be of her son and grandsons, who had proven 
to be such brave and loyal sons of France. At times 
in my effort to converse with her and to cheer her, 
I would succeed in bringing a smile to her lips and 
I then felt that she understood, in a sense, what I 
was trying so hard to convey to her. Poor Madame, 
my heart certainly went out to her, yet she was but 
one of thousands of women who have given up and 
were then giving their all for France and for the 
glorious cause of liberty and democracy of the whole 
world. 

It is the women who are the real sufferers in this 
war. I know it for I have had the opportunity to 
see and note something of the suffering they have 
had to bear. Most of all it is the mother whose 
heart was first broken at the parting with her son, 
and who now sits at home watching, waiting and 
praying for his safe return. The return of a part 
of her own flesh and blood, as it were, and to her 
the dearest and best boy, and the bravest, as well, 
that ever lived. And next the wife who waits for 



104 WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 

a husband's return, torn by the thought that she 
may have to wait in vain, and that instead it may 
be he who must wait for her in that unknown 
world. And the sister who mourns the loss of her 
brother, and the lass who waits patiently and faith- 
fully at home for the return of a lover. 

Oh! the anxious days they all spend during this 
cruel war and the thoughts they have concerning 
the health, comfort and life of the loved one; and 
then the awful thought that he may be injured, or 
worse, possibly killed at that very moment. And 
then, when the word comes, as it has and will to 
so many, that such loved one has fallen, what an- 
guish and what heartache is and must be ex- 
perienced. But I cannot begin to picture the suffer- 
ing and would not if I could. 

On the part of the soldier there is not that same 
suffering, for he leaves home to fight and there goes 
with him a certain feeling that he is going as a 
matter of duty and that there will be associated 
with it certain excitement, adventure and honor and 
that he may possibly win some high laurel and re- 
turn home and be welcomed as a hero. While his 
life at the front is filled with hardship and danger, 
he has never anything like the same anxious heart- 
ache or fears that his mother or the others to whom 
he is so near and dear have and feel. 

Oh, it is the women who wait and watch and listen 
who have my deepest sympathy. I have seen the far 



WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 105 

off expression in the eyes of the women of France 
that expression that spoke anxiety and suffering' 
I have seen tears roll down their cheeks when speak- 
ing of their men, and often have I had them rever- 
ently and with expressions of love show me the 
photograph of the one so much in their thought. 

Women who wait and watch and suffer, we who 
are soldiers think of you and feel for you and rev- 
erently salute you. 

At last orders came to move and our time for play 
was over. 

Hurrah! in boot and saddle we are off on our first 
march as a cavalry unit. It was on one of those 
splendid spring days, with sky clear, sun shining 
and birds singing we rode out of Freeacourt, and 
like the birds we were singing too. 

The villagers came out to see us off. They filled 
our water bottles with cider, wished us good luck, 
and threw kisses as we rode away. We presented 
a noble spectacle, I am sure, and I know to this you 
would agree could you have been one of the specta- 
tors in this French village on this April morning. 

Picture to yourself a quaint old-fashioned French 
village. A cavalry brigade under command, with 
horses and men smart, clean and fresh and the sun 
shining on polished brass and stirrups. The horses 
pawing and neighing and the men laughing and chaf- 
ing the villagers. Then suddenly the blare of a 



106 WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 

trumpet, the giving of commands by the officers and 
Instantly the regiment is at attention. 

This was something of the appearance we pre- 
sented that April morning, a sight both picturesque 
and inspiring. 

"Vive La Canadians/' the villagers shouted to us, 
and not to be outdone by them, we shouted back 
"Vive La France." 

A command is now given and every man stands to 
his horse's head. Another command and each man, 
almost as one, swings into his saddle. The trumpet 
again sounds and each man presses his knees home 
and the whole squadron walks off in unison. The 
order is then given, "March at ease," at which we 
begin to sing. The villagers again wave their hands 
and call after us. Soon we are out of sight of the 
village and when about a mile beyond take up our 
position in a field. 

Here we halt and are soon joined by "A" and 
"C" Squadrons. The men of the regiment dismount 
and each looks to his saddle to see that the girths 
are properly fitted. After a time we are also joined 
by the Lord Strathcona Horse and the Fort Garry 
Horse, and now, for the first time in France, the 
Canadian Cavalry Brigade parades as a mounted 
unit. 

Brigadier General Seely now rides up with his 
staff and inspects us and compliments us on our 
smart and soldierlike appearance. 



WE LEAVE FREEACOURT 107 

An order is given and we mount. Then at a com- 
mand each regiment swings into place, the R. C. D.'s 
leading in half sections, followed by the L. S. H. 
and the F. G. H. The column strings out in half 
sections along the road for nearly a mile and a half, 
and in this order we take up and continue our 
march. 

We now commence to sing, and as we ride along 
the singing grows louder and louder until the whole 
countryside is filled with the song. We sang that 
day, to the tune of "Sing Me to Sleep," our old 
favorite song, which went something like this: — 

" Far, Far from Ypres, I long to be, 
Where German snipers can't snipe me, 
Down in my dug-out where worms creep, 
Waiting for someone to sing me to sleep, 
Sing me to sleep where the star shells fall, 
Let me forget the Huns and all. 
Dark is the trenches, cold is my feet 
Nothing but bully and hardtack to eat. 



CHAPTER XV 



CAVALRY AT THE SOMME 




E WERE on the move for nearly two 
months, passing through, on the way, 
such historical places as, Crecy and 
Asincourt, and finally the old city of 
Amiens. 
At the latter place the citizens were 
out to greet us and bid us welcome. Flags were 
flying, hats were waved, and we felt quite as we 
might have felt had the day of victory arrived and 
we were then entering the city a victorious army. 

We of the R. C. D.'s, were now the last regiment 
in line and thus had a good opportunity to see things. 
We were covered with dust from the long ride, but 
that only seemed to lend additional color to the 
scene. The day was clear and the sun shone bright 
on our acoutrements, and we, ourselves, sat per- 
fectly erect in our saddles, looking neither to the 
right nor to the left, and I have no doubt greatly 
impressed the natives with our soldier-like appear- 
ance. 

(108) 



CAVALRY AT THE SOMME 109 

We continued on through the city and halted for 
the night two kilometers to the north. I am going 
to try and draw for the reader's benefit, if I can, a 
pen picture of a camp of cavalry when halted on the 
road for the night. 

At the command, "Halt," the men dismount and 
at once loosen the girths. Then a picket line is 
taken from the pack and made fast to the ground 
by the aid of heel pegs (a heel peg being attached 
to each soldier's saddle for the purpose). 

The line once made fast, each horse is tied thereto 
by means of a head rope. Each picket line is sixty 
feet long to which thirty-two horses can be attached. 

The order is then given, "Off saddle," and in about 
two minutes each man's saddle is off and placed by 
him on the ground directly behind his horse. The 
horses are then rubbed down, watered and fed, after 
which the men look to their own personal and ma- 
terial comfort. 

The first thought of the men now is, "Where are 
the cooks." On being informed, each takes his mess 
tin and proceeds to what is called the "cook house," 
which, under these circumstances, is merely a small 
trench fire built in the ground over which the cook 
boils water to make tea. When the water comes to 
a boil the cook takes a handful or two of dry tea, 
throws it into the boiling water, adds a bit of sugar 
and, perhaps milk, and shouts, "Tea up." 
16 



110 CAVALRY AT THE SOMME 

Each man securing his tea returns to his saddle 
and there eats some "Bully beef," and biscuit and 
drinks his tea. This constitutes the evening meal. 

After satisfying the inner man in this way and 
to such extent, each man prepares his bed for the 
night in this manner: — First he stretches his 
water proof sheet on the ground directly behind his 
saddle, next takes his saddle blanket and rolls up 
into it. His bed is now made and he is properly 
dressed for it, and when he lies down, as he now 
does, he is "in bed," with the mother earth for a 
mattress and the sky for a roof. 

It is on still clear nights in camp on the road that 
he can and usually does lie and think and dream of 
home, but usually after an all day's ride he soon 
falls asleep and all is forgotten. Five o'clock the 
next morning finds him in saddle and off again on 
another twenty kilometer hike. 

It was not long after leaving Amiens before we 
came within sound of the guns, and with that we 
naturally began to sit up and take notice. We real- 
ized now that our days of peace and quiet were num- 
bered and that we must soon be within reach of 
those guns, and we speculated as to which part of 
the line we were to be assigned a place. 

At mid-day we halted for a time and watered and 
fed our horses. During this period we received 
information that the Canadian Brigade would take 
up a position southeast of Busses. By this time we 



CAVALRY AT THE SOMME m 

had left civilization behind, and were once more 
traveling through the shell-swept country in the 
north of France. Here hardly a tree was to be 
seen and no signs whatever of vegetation, the fields 
where once wheat and corn and other vegetation had 
grown were nothing but a horrible waste, and as 




for roads, they were badly torn and broken, ren- 
dering travel very hard for both man and beast. 

We passed through great heaps of wreckage 
where once villages had stood, but strange to say, a 
fact nevertheless, there amidst it all we usually 
found standing, unscathed from shell fire and war's 
awful havoc, the crucifix. The crucifix is to be 



112 CAVALRY AT THE SOMME 

found in all French and Belgium villages, and we 
soldiers wondered, with good reason, why and how, 
amidst all the devastation and ruin, this religious 
symbol or sacred shrine escaped unharmed. 

Shortly after our arrival at Busses I was pro- 
moted to the rank of full corporal, a post and a pro- 
motion I had cherished the ambition to attain since 
leaving Canada. I am not sure that I deserved the 
promotion more than any other one of my com- 
rades, every one of whom had fought just as faith- 
fully and suffered as fully as myself, but naturally 
I was delighted with the honor and respect it car- 
ried, and in the knowledge of the fact, as well, that 
I could now command a section of men and have full 
charge in dealing out death to the Germans through 
the operation of a Hotchkiss automatic rifle. My 
good comrades seemed quite as pleased as myself 
and heartily and sincerely congratulated me on the 
promotion, and accordingly I felt quite at peace with 
the whole world, excepting, of course, our enemy. 

Such, in a way, is the life, generally, of a cavalry 
unit. Riding from point to point and when not 
really in action constantly drilling and keeping fit. 
It is a life of hardship from which some men sicken 
and die, while others apparently seem to thrive and 
be the better for it, and the same may be said to be 
quite equally true of the horses. 



CHAPTER XVI 




PEN PICTURE OF 
A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 

»HE BRITISH cavalry had been pouring 
in from all the northern roads of France 
to engage in the battle I shall try to 
describe here. 

Division after division had come up, 
consisting of lancers, hussars and dra- 
goons. A magnificent display of manhood and horse 
flesh they presented. There was the Indian cavalry 
from far away India. The British cavalry from all 
over the empire, and last, but not least, the First 
Canadian cavalry brigade— the right of the line, the 
pride of the British army and a terror to the entire 
world, as we imagined, for all cavalry brigades hold 
that opinion. 

The first phase of the battle opened in June, 1916. 
The object, as we were then informed, was to take 
the offensive, in the belief that if we did so it would 
compel the Germans to cease their efforts toward 
and their onslaughts on Verdun. 

Today all the world knows with what spirit and 
dash the magnificent British army attacked and 

(113) 



114 A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 

drove the Huns from the strongly fortified position 
they had prepared and occupied since being driven 
back at the battle of the Marne. 

At the beginning of this attack the whole heavens 
seemed to have opened up and to be raining shot and 
shell, and the awful din of the guns battering at 
and into the Huns' first line of defense was as sweet 
music to our ears. 

At dawn the Germans awoke to the fact that some 
horrible new engine of war had been constructed 
and was being used for the first time against them 
and with awful effect. We, ourselves, were no less 
surprised than the enemy at the first sight of these 
horrible implements of war which appeared so un- 
expectedly upon the scene. They looked to us so 
ugly and so powerful, so unwieldly and so irresisti- 
ble, and so horrible were their appearance that we 
were awed and yet, at the same time, struck with 
great admiration for them. 

This new engine of warfare seemed in its move- 
ment to crawl along like some mammoth uncouth 
reptile and to be possessed with wicked little eyes 
with which it appeared to be seeking out prey to 
devour, and when its gun spoke and the machine 
guns rattled from within, it looked for all the world 
like some fiery dragoon spitting out tongues of 
flame. 

It was the tanks! 

The tanks that took the first line of German 
trenches. They walked through wire, straddled 



A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 115 

trenches, climbed in and out of shell craters. They 
would walk up, as it were, to a pill-box, and then 
back away a little and then go forward and through 
it. They would go through a wood knocking down 
trees and destroying machine gun nests, and any- 
thing and everything that came in their way was 
crushed to a pulp. 

The Huns, taken by surprise, at first stood to 
attack them. They would shoot their rifles, throw 
bombs at them, but all to no avail. The effect was 
the same and no more damaging than that of a boy 
blowing peas through a pea shooter against a plate 
glass. 

Finally the Huns, discouraged, would throw up 
their hands and cry, "Kamrade Merci, Kamrade," 
but Mr. Tank had no mercy to show and no time or 
room to take prisoners. It would just continue on 
its way rolling over and crushing the defenseless 
Huns into a jelly. Oh what terror it must have 
struck to the hearts of the enemy for we ourselves, 
simply looking on, were filled with awe at the terri- 
ble havoc it could and did create. 

The infantry, the tireless magnificent infantry, 
followed the tanks and took possession of the first 
line. Oh the wonderful deeds of heroism and the 
endurance the men displayed. Village after village 
fell into their hands and thousands of prisoners 
were captured by them. 



116 A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 

During this battle the German dead became piled 
in places as high as three or four feet. With all 
this horrible slaughter, however, there was yet some 
feeling displayed between man and man. In this 
connection it was a common sight, and I must say 
a wonderful sight, to see the German soldiers being 
cared for by the stretcher bearers of our army, and 
neither was it an unusual sight, that of German 
prisoners helping to carry out the wounded British 
soldiers. 

The battle line seemed to change every hour. Place 
after place fell to the British, and as they did, we, 
of the cavalry, kept coming up closer and closer, 
waiting the time for our dash to the last line of Ger- 
man defenses and then on and into the open country 
on the final objective — the taking of Baupaume. 

When night fell, we of the cavalry found ourselves 
in what had been the second line of German defense 
the day previous. There we saw what awful havoc 
our shells had inflicted on the enemy. There we 
found the unburied dead, the equipment of the flee- 
ing soldiers — the awful waste of life and material. 
Here a dead mule, there a dead horse and rider. 
Here an upturned gun and there wagons and limbers 
destroyed, and among all this wreckage here and 
there an aeroplane that had been brought down and 
also lay a heap of wreckage. 

I doubt that there was ever an artist who could 
paint that awful yet inspiring scene witnessed by 



A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 117 

us at this battle of the Somme. I doubt that any 
person could write about it and fully describe it, 
and while either may attempt to paint or write of 
it, I fear the task is beyond the power of any to do 
it justice, for the scenes were too rapidly changing 
and too awful to be painted or described. 

During this engaggement we, of the cavalry, 
never unsaddled our horses, each man and officer 
standing constantly to his horse with attention riv- 
eted to the scene. We actually seemed, during this 
time, to be carried away from ourselves, never 
thinking of sleep and finding hardly time to snatch 
a bit even to eat. 

Despatch riders were constantly riding up deliver- 
ing messages and then galloping away. The picture 
was changing constantly day and night. At night 
could be seen the flash of the guns along the line 
and for miles could be seen the fires of the cavalry. 
All night long could be heard the singing of thou- 
sands of voices of the men who were either to ad- 
vance or were going up to the front or returning, 
and even amidst the roar of the guns, which seemed 
never to slacken, could be heard the words of the 
Somme, "Keep the Home Fires Burning," "Pack All 
Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag" and "Smile, 
Smile, Smile." 

All night long the roads were filled with troops 
returning from an attack and with others going up 
17 



118 A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 

to the front to relieve the tired and worn out fight- 
ers — a continual stream of humanity it was, of 
walking, smoking, singing and joking men. Some 
on the way back would stop by our camp fire and 
tell us something of the engagement, and how and 
when they were hit. Some would show a souvenir 
— perhaps a helmet or a revolver or a pair of field 
glasses they had secured. Some would tell us how 
the boys were pushing the Germans back. 

All news they gave us was good news, for they 
never came back with any pessimistic tales. They 
were great men, truly, and seemed to be happy 
amidst it all. Some would tell us just how they had 
killed their last Hun and give us the description in 
such a moderate and even tone of voice that it would 
seem they were telling of but an every day occur- 
rence. Oh the sublime courage and the devotion 
to duty displayed by those men at the battle of the 
Somme can never be told fully to their credit. 

With the coming of day the scene again changes. 
The cavalry is once more on the move. Shall we 
attack this time, we wonder? We look to our arms. 
We who have revolvers see that the action is in 
perfect working order, and all see that their swords 
are perfectly free in the scabbard. We pat our 
horses on the neck as if to cheer them and make 
much of them. 

I look at my supply of ammunition for my machine 
gun and see that the gun's action is clear. I instruct 



A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 119 

my men just what to do, how to do it and when to 
act. Over all this preparation for action we become 
sentimental. We shake hands and resolve to do our 
duty to the limit or die. We do not say so, of course, 
but that is what we all think. 

We do not go far, however. We simply change 
our positions to screen ourselves as far as possible 
from the observation of the balloons of the enemy. 

Here we now see the never ceasing stream of Red 
Cross cars coming and going. Guns are being 
brought forward and ammunition, rations and water 
going up to the fighters. Overhead aeroplanes are 
watching every movement of the enemy. There 
can be seen a great heliograph at work sending mes- 
sages back to general headquarters. Here a group 
of German prisoners are being herded back by a 
small cavalry escort. Let me say here that the Hun 
in the trenches and the Hun a prisoner are two 
entirely different persons. In the trenches he is 
vicious and cruel. A prisoner he has, or seems 
always to have, an oily smile of contentment on his 
face and is easily managed. 

Now across the open is seen a tank lumbering 
back for more supplies. I can see it now again as I 
write. It looks for all the world like some great 
beast of prey coming back after a gorgeous feast. 
As I watch it I can almost imagine I see the blood 
dripping from its jaws. I can imagine also that I 
see a horrible leer on its ugly face. I can imagine 



120 A BATTLE ON THE SOMME 

I hear it say, "I am the destroyer of the whole 
universe." 

But alas! My dream is shattered when Mr. Tank 
suddenly ceases its awful fascinating gait and comes 
to a halt opposite me, and at that a little iron door 
in its side opens and from it peers the dirty grin- 
ning face of a man who calls out, ' 'Hello you fellows, 
have you any spare biscuits or fags around your 
kit?" 

We have what is demanded and the request of 
the man is readily granted, each of our party donat- 
ing a small portion of rations to the men in the 
tank. We also give them a drink from our water 
bottles and a smoke or two. In return all the man 
says is, "Thanks, we must be going," and off the 
tank lumbers. 

I then wished, and have often wished, that that 
tank had never stopped, and that that fellow had 
not shown his face to us, for at the sight of the 
soldier's grinning face all of the things I had imag- 
ined concerning the tank, and all the romance I had 
pictured in my mind regarding it seemed to vanish. 




CHAPTER XVII 

WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

.0 OUR great disappointment the order 
came, "The cavalry will retire." "What ! 
Must we go back?" we ask. Yes, there 
was no mistake in the order. We were 
not going through that day. 

General headquarters, it seemed, did 
not deem it advisable to throw the cavalry at the 
fleeing Huns who were now rapidly falling back on 
their prepared line, since and now known as the 
"Hindenburgh line." 

The ground was found to be almost impassable 
for cavalry because of the shell holes, trenches and 
barb wire. It was this condition that barred our 
way to a great and glorious charge. 

While we were, in a sense, disappointed at the 
turn things had taken, yet we were after all glad, 
in a way, to turn our backs on such carnage and 
waste as we had witnessed. 

Our horses had not been unsaddled for nearly 
three days and were pretty well worn out by now, 
to say nothing of ourselves. It had been extremely 

(121) 



122 WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

difficult to get any water during this time for the 
men and the poor horses had been obliged to go 
for a long time without any at all, although the 
Royal Engineers had worked hard and accomplished 
wonders in providing a supply for both man and 
beast by erecting a pumping station and building 
a canvass trough at a point where but a few days 
before the German first line of trenches had been. 
We the cavalry were proud of the engineers and 
take off our hats to them. 

We rode back that day with a feeling that we 
had failed to make good. Our comrades of the 
infantry who had cheered us as we passed them on 
our way toward the front line, now asked rude and 
perinnent questions as we passed them on our way 
back. For illustration — "Are you going ghome 
for lunch?" "Wont mama let you stay and fight?" 

While we felt humiliated we did not care to show 
our feeling, and so replied in kind, with such scath- 
ing remarks as — "We'll come back tomorrow and 
finish what you chaps can't do." 

We had no sooner so replied than we were heartily 
sorry for the remark, for we felt it was really a 
gross insult, after having witnessed the gallantry 
and dash displayed by these brave men in taking 
of High Wood, Devil Wood, Freicourt, Beau Hamil 
and other points won in the famous fights in which 
they had engaged and for which they alone were 



WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 123 

entitled to credit, for us to say we would finish what 
they couldn't do. 

Good old "gravel crushers/' we were after all, 
proud of you in those days and ready to give you 
credit for all you accomplished, and were glad that 
you proved to the world that the volunteer army of 
the British empire could fight so well as to defeat 
the much vaunted Prussian Guards of the central 
empire. You well earned and deserve the name 
"Bull Dogs." 

We did not ask the reason for not being permitted 
to go forward. We simply went back as ordered. 
Oh, you who read can never understand our thoughts 
though or realize the great disappointment we felt, 
for our ambition was to press on and forward in 
those terrible days at the battle of the Somme. 

We, the cavalry, were, in our estimation powerful 
and irresistible. We were ready to do or dare, to 
go anywhere if we might only be permitted to fight. 
We had seen our comrades of the infantry go for- 
ward. Had seen them gasp for breath, and in their 
death struggle imagined we saw them stretch forth 
their bloody hands to us and say, "Come boys, carry 
on." 

Seeing all this and feeling as we did, can you 
wonder that we did at such times think there must 
be something wrong or we would not be held back. 
There seemed to be need for every man and every 
weapon and why we, the flower of the British army, 



124 WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

as we thought, were not allowed to go forward and 
kill, and kill, we could not then understand. 

We, each and every Canadian, was ready in that 
year 1916, at the battle of the Somme, to make the 
supreme sacrifice necessary to win. To do all that 
the allied armies are doing today. To give our man- 
hood to that great allied cause that the world might 
speedily be rid of the awful menace of Prussian 
rule. To give our lives, if need be, in the cause of 
democracy and liberty. 

I have tried to describe as best I could how we 
had fought as infantrymen for over nine months 
in the filthy, slimy trenches of Belgium and Flan- 
ders, and now we had expected the supreme moment 
had arrived when, as a mounted unit, with knee to 
knee and at full gallop we were to charge and sabre 
the Huns and kill our way to victory and to ever- 
lasting peace for the civilized world. 

But looking back now I can see the reason for 
the plans that were adopted and which kept us 
back, and I can now fully explain and apologize, as 
well, for our lack of trust in the wisdom of our 
superior officers in holding us back. The time for 
our advance, I now quite fully understand,, was not 
then but was to come later. Our staff knew, of 
course, what we did not, and had we been really 
true soldiers I realize now we would not for one 
moment have questioned their good judgment — the 
judgment of that grand and capable commanding 



WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 125 

officer, General Haig, the pride of the British army 
and of the empire, and now of the civilized world. 

But to come back to our personal feelings, our 
disappointment was of short duration and soon for- 
gotten, and in a little while we were again smiling 
and carrying on like good soldiers. 

Our horses seemed no less impatient to get into 
action, and kept pawing the earth and squealing 
and kicking during all this time. We imagined 
them as having something of our feelings and of 
wanting to break free from the rope that held them 
back, and to charge on without rider, if necessary, 
to the thing that was, as I thought, holding both 
them and us back — the dominating strength and 
power of the Prussian militarism. 

We had now almost given up hope of ever meet- 
ing the Hun in the open and riding him down to the 
point of making him cry for mercy. But in those 
days we lived in the present, taking what was 
allotted to us with as good grace as possible. Of 
the future we constantly dreamed and planned, and 
do you know what a true cavalryman in service 
dreams ? 

It is to hear the command, "Charge," when knee 
to knee and sword in line he can ride at full gallop, 
knowing he has a good pal to carry him on — a horse 
just as anxious to meet the enemy as he. Oh the 
thrill that goes with a charge, and what shouting 
18 



126 WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

by every man as he rides on. With a noise of the 
horses' hoofs and the jingling of scabbards, and 
the hurrah and the huzzas of the men, all blending 
into one continuous roar as of thunder, his blood 
then tingles and he presses his knee tighter to his 
horse, grasps the sword more firmly and urges his 
hand to greater speed; and if he happens to be 
leading a troop he will from time to time look back, 
and looking will see such expressions on the faces 
of the men that will almost appal him. 

An officer looking back upon a troop of cavalry 
riding to a charge, cannot but wonder what man 
really is, as he sees him sitting steady as a rock 
with sword perfectly straight in front, eyes flash- 
ing, mouth open, and upon his face that awful look 
of grim determination. At such times he appears 
a demon rather than a man. 

Behind him he hears the thunder of the hoofs 
of the thousands of well shod horses, and glancing 
at them he sees the foam on their necks, and their 
nostrils wide open and from their mouths he easily 
imagines he sees the coming of fire with every 
breath. There is nothing in warfare that gives 
quite the thrill or furnishes so much fascination to 
the man in action as a cavalry charge. 

That is what we dreamed of — a cavalry charge, 
and with it the shock o.f meeting the enemy, the 
pointing and thrusting of sabres, hearing the squeal 
of horses in pain when hit, and seeing the last leap 



WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 127 

for life as they fall mortally wounded, and then 
their agonizing squeal when they rear on their hind 
legs and, pawing the air for a second, drop dead 
in the performance of a noble duty to man. 

I repeat, what a satisfaction, what a great and 
glorious feeling does a cavalryman have during a 
charge. 

The year 1916, saw no great cavalry charge for 
the Canadian cavalry bridage, and once we were 
resigned to the fact we were not to immediately 
realize our great dream, we were ready for any other 
duty along whatever line we could best serve. 

We did not complain now when compelled to leave 
our horses again, this time at Bourseville, some- 
where in France, and go as a pioneer battalion, not 
to fight, but to work, to do real manual labor. 

We worked north of D during the fall of 

1916, digging trenches, making dugouts and assist- 
ing in building railroads. We also built wire entan- 
glements, mended roads and buried the dead. We 
worked very hard all that fall, not as a cavalry unit, 
but as a pioneer or labor battalion and in such 
capacity we were employed until Christmas of that 
year. 

Christmas was spent by us amongst the dead and 

devastation found north of D , namely, 

M . Christmas was a sad and dismal day 

for us but we tried as best we could to make it as 
cheerful as possible. 



128 WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

Officers and men met together that day for our 
holiday feast, and dined on bully beef, tea, bread 
and cheese, and during this Christmas dinner our 
thoughts went back to the folks at home and we 
could imagine them sitting down to a real Christ- 
mas dinner and enjoying such things as soups, 
chicken, turkey, cake and pie, and drinking good 
coffee and possibly wine and smoking tailor made 
cigarette^ and cigars. 

Our thoughts were finally disturbed and we were 
brought back to earth, as it were, when Captain 
Bell stood up and wished as a "Merry Christmas." 
We responded, in none too hearty tones, "A Merry 
Christmas, sir." None of us however, were really 
sincere in making such an expression and how could 
we be under the conditions which surrounded us. 
Just imagine, if you can, yourself, at such a time 
eating your Christmas dinner in the open, amidst 
wet and snow and filth, and being at the time wet 
and on the whole downhearted and quite miserable, 
physically and mentally. 

Could you, yourself, under such circumstances 
feel merry and honestly exclaim "A Merry Christ- 
mas?" I answer for you, No, emphatically no. 

But later when we stood up with our mess tins 
in hand filled with nothing but tea and Captain 
Bell repeated, "Boys, I wish you a Merry Christmas 
and a Happy New Year, but before going any fur- 
ther I will ask your permission to make a toast. 



WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 129 

Although it is only tea you have in your mess tins, 
I know my request will be heartily granted. Rather, 
I should say, my prayer will be heard and answered. 
Men of the R. C. D.'s, I wish you to drink a silent 
toast to the comrades who were with us in 1914, 
and '15, and who have since gone to answer the last 
great roll-call. May their souls rest in peace." 

I say now that was a great Christmas dinner after 
all and one that will be remembered by each and 
every comrade present so long as he shall live. In 
tea we drank to the memory of the fallen heroes; 
our dead comrades. We were still alive and strong 
and fit for duty, so why should we be downhearted 
and have cause to complain. This thought cheered 
us and gave us courage and caused us to cease wish- 
ing for anything better than that with which we 
were then blessed, and through it we were taught 
a great lesson — to be thankful and to be merry and 
to "Smile and Carry On." 

With tears in his eyes Captain Bell continued and 
concluded his remarks in this manner — "Boys," 
he said, "I know it is Hell to wish you a Merry 
Christmas and a Happy New Year, but damn it all, 
you are soldiers, and I am glad to say gentlemen 
as well, and so you must be happy and 'Smile and 
Carry On/ " 

Yes, "Smile and Carry On," that was the only 
thing for us to do, and although many a boy was 
ready on that Christmas day to give away to his 



130 WE DO NOT FIGHT AT LA SOMME 

own personal thoughts and feelings, he could not 
now with the thought of his fallen comrades forget 
his silent toast, and so he was able to say, "God 
permit me to 'carry on' that my toast, my silent 
toast, will be fulfilled, and that I may live to fight 
to the end for the cause for which my pals conse- 
crated and gave their lives, for the great cause for 
which we were fighting, that of Humanity, Freedom 
and Democracy. 




CHAPTER XVIII 

THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 

HRISTMAS, 1916, passed with the usual 
routine of work. Christmas, a day when 
"peace on earth and good will toward 
all men," is presumed to prevail, yet on 
this day in question neither peace on 
earth existed and little good will toward 
men could be said to be felt. On the contrary two 
great factions were struggling and gripping each 
other by the throat, namely, on the one side "Right," 
and on the other "Might," each trying to smother 
the life of the other for all time. 

Fortunately and for which we were thankful, we 
had the Right on our side, while on the side of our 
enemy was that of Might, an army borne with the 
spirit of Might rather than that of Justice and 
Right, and existing and possessing its power through 
might and force. On the side of Might was an army 
of oppressed and heavily taxed subjects forced by 
a cruel and merciless emperor to bear arms and fight 
their fellow beings for no other purpose than to 
satisfy the selfish ambition of such a ruler and the 
subordinates under him, for world power. 

(131) 



132 THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 

Oh! I, a British soldier, and an American citizen, 
who had been taught to believe that "people had 
certain rights, and that Right was stronger than 
Might, am sorry for the poor, deluded, and misin- 
formed German and Austrian subjects, who have 
been and are being driven to their deaths at the 
command of such monsters in the form of human 
beings as the rulers of the House of the Hoenzoller- 
ners and the Hapsburgs. In a spirit of charity 
however, I say, God forgive them, for the suffering 
they have brought to this world, for in their mad 
insanity I can hardly believe they know what they 
do. 

But as I write I feel the day of reckoning is near 
at hand. I saw and felt as early as in 1916, right 
after the sinking of the Lusatania, that the great 
American Republic, my adopted country and my 
home, must in time take a decided stand in this 
world affair, and that when it did it would not be 
on the side of "Might," but on the side of our Allies 
— the side of "Right," and I knew when she did, 
that Right must sooner or later triumph — and now 
that this great Republic, founded and enduring on 
the principle of Justice and Equality, has entered 
the conflict, I say the day of reckoning for the 
human brutes is near at hand. 

We in 1916, were all volunteers making up a great 
volunteer army and doing so because we had been 
taught to know right from wrong and to respect 



THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 133 

the right. To make up that vast army, we had 
come from all parts of the world — from far off India, 
from Africa, Australia, New Zealand, from Canada 
and from the British Isles, and I think I may safely 
whisper at this time, also from every state in the 
Union of the United States of America. We came 
to stand shoulder to shoulder to fight the Hun, 
after the little Belgian army had shown us the way. 

And with the thought of Belgium, we can not but 
feel how well that grand little nation fought and 
held back the German horde at Leigh, fighting for 
practically every inch of soil and drawing back only 
as driven by superior numbers and strength, and 
yet, against such odds, holding until the much "de- 
spised and contemptible little army of Great Brit- 
ain/' as the Germans then considered and termed it, 
came with the flower of its manhood to help those 
brave little defenders of civilization stay the pro- 
gress of that horde of murderers, robbers and adul- 
terers, which had already brought such destruction 
of life and property in the country of this little 
peace loving nation. 

The story of the glorious defense and the retreat 
from Mons has already been written by writers far 
more learned and able to write than my poor self, 
but I, as a soldier, am able to say that the same 
spirit of chivalry and bravery and gallantry dis- 
played by the Belgians, the French and the British 
in August, September and October, when they were 
19 



134 THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 

being driven backward almost against Paris, when 
things seemed so black and when all hope seemed to 
the poor fighting soldiers quite lost, still exists and 
remains with the Allied armies at this day, and this 
same spirit will continue to exist and will drive the 
enemy to cry for and accept a lasting peace. 

At the time of which I have just spoken General 
Foch, then commanding the French reserve army, 
threw his forces at the center of the German horde, 
while at the same time British and Belgians on the 
left compelled the Huns in time to retire, foot by 
foot, back and ever back, until Paris and Calais were 
once more safe from attack. 

Then the world breathed easier and settled down 
again to watch the grim struggle of Right against 
Might in that awful form of warfare which the 
world today knows as "trench warfare," a warfare 
in which men are forced to live underground like 
beasts and in which every method conceivable is 
resorted to in the effort to torture and kill. 

But the world did more than simply watch. It 
sent forth its young manhood to help Right over- 
power Might that the former might exist and for- 
ever rule. 

The colonies of the British empire answered the 
call to arms nobly. First came the men of Canada, 
followed by those of Africa and India. With the 
great spirit of democracy and the love of freedom 
and right, born and bred in them, they enthusiasti- 



THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 135 

cally took up the cause and continued to carry on 
the work the "little contemptible army of Great 
Britain" had so nobly and successfully undertaken 
in those awful crushing and discouraging months 
of the fall of 1914. 

And now the powerful nation, the wealth acquir- 
ing and wealth loving nation, the nation of Liberty, 
as well, the United States of America, has cast aside 
all selfish thoughts and ambition and is today giving 
her all, if need be, in men and money for the main- 
tenance of right, for the interest and the life of 
humanity of the entire world. Not one whit less 
of the spirit of love for the cause is being shown 
by her today than has already been displayed by 
her noble allies, and now with this great united army 
of God fearing and liberty loving people allied on 
the side of "Right" it must, it will, in the end pre- 
vail. 

In 1916, we were gradually wearing the Germans 
out we felt. They were then falling back to pre- 
viously prepared positions, and well knew, I believe, 
the time could not be far away when they could not 
withstand the force of the allied armies and that 
they must soon be on their knees gasping for breath 
and asking for mercy in the gigantic struggle, the 
existence for which they alone were responsible. 

It is now New Year's eve of which I write. With 
the dawn of the morrow comes a New Year. I was 
uneasy and nervous, and for some reason unusually 
tired, lonely and weary and heartsick. 



136 



THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 



I tried to sleep but could not. So I put on my 
cloak and went forth into the night. I walked 
through a communicating trench, passing as I did, 
infantry then on their way to the front line. I had 
no objective in my walk. I was uneasy and looking- 
for something, yet I knew not what. I was, or 
seemed to be alone — alone with my thoughts and 
in my misery. 







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Finally, without any premeditated thought of 
doing so, I knelt down and offered up a prayer, the 
first real sincere prayer, I believe, of my life. 

"How long, Oh God! How long," I cried. Then 
alone out there where the great dark shadows 
seemed to encompass me, I thought, or I imagined, 
I heard the answer, "When Right prevails." 



THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 



137 



I arose after a time and walked on and on until 
gray streaks of dawn began to penetrate the awful, 
blackness. Shadows now began to take on fearful 
shapes before my eyes, and in my mental fancy I 
imagined myself going through Hades. 

As I walked I heard the droan of shells passing 
through the air overhead bound on their mission of 
death and destruction, and I could picture the awful 




destruction and loss of life they were inflicting. I 
watched the star shells climb and cast their dull 
greenish hue over the land. Icicles were hanging 
on the barbed wire, and here and there lay the un- 
buried dead. 

I now saw coming towards me a party of untiring 
stretcher bearers with their burden of broken hu- 
manity being carried back to the dressing station. 
And a little way on in the still early dawn I came 



138 THE GETHSEMANE OF MAN 

to the side of a newly dug grave where I stopped 
and witnessed our soldiers being buried, wrapped 
simply in their blankets and placed side by side, 
and the mother dirt then thrown over their bodies, 
while a priest stood by the side of the open grave 
committing their souls to the care of the Great Re- 
deemer. 

The shadows now lifted and dawn appeared. I 
now seemed lost. I inquire from an English staff 
officer I met, my way — "I beg pardon, sir," I said, 
"but can you tell me the way out?" He looked at 
me for a moment with a sad and melancholy stare, 
and then pointing to a party of stretcher bearers 
who were bearing wounded soldiers to the rear, he 
said, "That is one way out." And then pointing to 
the recently dug grave, he said, "And that is the 
other way out." With that he left. 

I looked after him and I felt that he too must 
have suffered this night as I had done, and that he 
too had without doubt passed through his Geth- 
semane, and perhaps had prayed as I had done — 
"Oh God, how long." 

I found my way back in time to my dug-out and 
to my comrades, a changed and a better man that 
New Year's morning, and with a feeling that I had 
been permitted to commune with my Maker on that 
field of havoc and destruction — in the Gethsemane 
of Man. 



CHAPTER XIX 



IN BILLETS 




,00N after my return to the dugout I 
was hailed by one of the comrades in 
this manner — ''Hello! old son, did you 
hear the news?" "What news?" I 
asked 

"Why, we are going back to billets." 
"Yes we are," I replied rather skeptically. "Well 
I tell you we are. We are going back for spring 
training. Back to our horses and civilization," con- 
tinued my informer. 

"Is it possible?" I asked. "Sure," he replied. 
"Why you know that runner over at brigade head- 
quarters? Well he told me, and he should know. 
He always hears the news and puts me wise when 
there is a move on, and so I am sure we are going 
back. 

We heard so many rumors of one sort or another 
that we believed nothing short of an official notice 
or order communicated in the regular order of 
things. The next day, sure enough, we were offi- 

(139) 



140 IN BILLETS 

daily informed we were going back and that we 
would leave at ten o'clock that night. 

Everyone was joyous over the fact we were going 
back to billets once more, back where we could see 
green trees, and for a time follow the peaceful pur- 
suits of a soldier, and in a way forget something 
of the horrors and hardships of the war. Back to 
our games and to a plentiful supply of food, wine 
and champagne, which we knew we should find at 
Bourseville, La Somme, the place we were now going 
to. 

At ten o'clock, to the minute, that night, we were 
loaded into motor trucks and soon on our way. 
Travelling in motor trucks was not exactly the most 
comfortable manner of travel. It could not be com- 
pared to travel in Pullmans, but after between three 
or four months of working and fighting in and 
around the front lines, more real pleasure was ex- 
perienced riding back in an army truck than ever 
was or could be experienced in a trip in a Pullman 
on the way to a vacation earned in civilian life. 

Soon we reached Amiens. It was during the night 
we struck the town and as we entered and passed 
through we were singing and shouting and, on the 
whole, making a fearful din. 

Disturbed by the noise, the natives left their beds 
and opened doors and threw up windows and stood 
in their night apparel — some in night gowns and 



IN BILLETS 141 

some in pajamas, watching us pass through, and 
waiving to us as we did. 

If it was a night dress we spied, up would go a 
whoop and a yell from the men, accompanied by 
some such remark as "Bon Soir Mon Chere" (Good- 
night, my dear), and "Oh La La, Aint she nice. 
Some queen, eh? Too bad we don't stop in Amiens 
for the night/ ' 

If it was a suit of pajamas that appeared in the 
window or doorway, we cried out, "Good-night- 
shirt!" "Hello Froggie!" "Oh you pea cracker." 
"After you with the pajamas." The citizens took 
all of our salutations in good part and seemed to 
heartily join with us in the humor. 

We soon passed through Amiens, and thereafter 
tried to settle down, and some managed to get a 
little sleep, but most of us, because of the constant 
excitement and continual bumping of the trucks, 
managed to keep awake." 

At about noon the next day we arrived at Bourse- 
ville, and as usual found the villagers out to greet 
and bid us welcome. From the day of our arrival 
in this village to the hour of our departure we prac- 
tically owned the town, at least the citizens did 
everything in their power and means to make us 
comfortable and happy, and accordingly we felt the 
village was ours. 



20 



142 IN BILLETS 

Bourseville is but about three kilometers from the 
village of Freeacourt, the place where in the early 
spring of 1916, we began our career as a cavalry- 
brigade, as I have already told you, and so we felt, 
on the whole, quite as though we had come back 
home. 

I was fortunate in being able to secure a com- 
fortable room from one Madam Josephine, a typical 
French peasant, and plainly speaking, as I found, 
the village gossip. She seemed to know everybody 
in the village and all of their affairs and everything 
in general that was going on. Her main and favorite 
topic of conversation concerned some scandal of one 
sort or another. 

After being quartered with the madam for three 
days I shared my room with Corporal McKenzie, 
since and now an officer in the Royal Flying Corps. 

Our troop, the Fourth troop, was billeted in a 
large empty house where they had unusually com- 
fortable quarters and naturally were soon quite at 
home and very much contented. The villagers sup- 
plied the men with straw to sleep upon and did 
everything possible for their comfort. They also 
washed our clothes and cooked us many little dain- 
ties, and as for their own homes, they were always 
open to the soldiers. 

At any time of the day and up until ten o'clock at 
night the soldiers and citizens mingled freely to- 



IN BILLETS 143 

gether as one large family. Their troubles were our 
troubles and our joys their joys. 

The citizens would come out and watch with ap- 
parent interest our training of the horses. They 
attended our base ball and foot ball matches, and 
when we drilled on the village street they would 
turn out enmasse to watch us. 

It was a common sight, and I may add, a pic- 
turesque sight, to see on Sunday afternoons and 
evenings the village maidens and their mothers 
walking arm in arm with the soldiers. They prac- 
tically adopted us as their brothers and sons and 
treated us as such. 

There was not a day while here that there was 
not something of interest to see or do, and very fre- 
quently informal dances were arranged for even- 
ings at which the boys and maidens, and mothers 
as well, came and danced with us. It was really 
surprising to see how quickly the soldiers picked up 
the French language, and I may add everything else 
that was not nailed down. We had little or no diffi- 
culty now in conversing freely with all the French 
people and felt quite like Frenchmen when in their 
company. 

Aside from the many little innocent amusements 
we took part in, I am going to chance telling of one 
of several somewhat lawless acts on the part of the 
soldiers. This one event happened to be in the way 
of an arrangement for a banquet. 



144 IN BILLETS 

"How about a feed to-night, Bill?" some of the 
men under me asked one day. "Sure, quite agree- 
able, I am on," I replied. 

"Well," said one of the men, Leo Barge (he was 
our cook), has promised to cook a dinner for us, 
providing we bring him something worth cooking." 
"Now I will tell you what we will do, we will get 
the 'gang' together and find the eatables and have 
the dinner to-night." 

We at once began to make plans to secure the 
food. Three men were detailed to forage about for 
wood for the fire. Two others were selected to get 
vegetables, and when it came to the question of 
meat it was unanimously decided that we should 
have nothing less than chickens. But who is going 
to get the chickens, and how and where from, is 
asked. "Let Jones attend to that," one man sug- 
gested, and immediately I was unanimously selected 
chairman of the poultry committee. I accepted the 
job, and as we had no time to loose directed Bigney 
to summon Picken and tell him to report to me at 
once. 

Upon being joined by Picken, Bigney, he and I 
adjourned to meet in a little room of the village 
cafe. I had already thought of a scheme by which 
we could obtain the chickens, and when we were 
settled down to business, unfolded my plan for our 
part in the night's campaign. 



IN BILLETS 145 

"Now you know," I said, "those twelve chickens 
and that great big rooster the officers have been 
carting around for the last four months that they 
might be supplied with fresh eggs? Well, I think 
they would make darn good eating for us." My 
co-workers both replied, "I say so too." 

With the source of supply approved, I continued, 
as to plans — "Now I have looked the ground over 
and thought of a plan, and it seems to me there is 
nothing to it. The only difficulty, I see, will be to 
get the darn squaking things without their making 
any noise and alarming the officers or guard." 

"Oh, that's easy," responded Bigney, who I firmly 
believe was an expert in this line of work, and con- 
tinued, "I have a torch that will blind any chicken 
that takes a squint at it. Now I will go into the 
coop, flash the torch, blind the chickens and pass 
them out to Picken, who can immediately wring 
their necks and then pass them to you and you can 
put them in the bag." The plan looked quite feasi- 
ble to me, and I said "All right, and now that we 
have settled things and understand our parts let's 
go and get ready for the job." 

With that we left the cafe. It was already dark 
enough for our task and so we made our way in a 
round about manner to the officers' mess. There 
we posted one of the men of our troop, who we 
picked up on the way for the purpose, as a sentry, 
wrth instructions to keep his eye skinned for the 



146 IN BILLETS 

approach of officers, and if any should be seen com- 
ing around to disturb us in our charitable work, 
he should whistle the tune of "Bring Back, Oh Bring 
Back My Bonnie to Me." 

We reached the chicken coop safely and began 
our work of capture and carried it out undisturbed 
and strictly as planned. To make a long story short, 
when we left the officers' mess there was nothing 
left in the coop, where but a short time before a 
big rooster and twelve fine chickens roosted, but a 
few stray chicken feathers. 

We made our way back to billets safely where we 
were greeted with shouts of glee upon displaying 
the result of our night's work. The chickens were 
handed over to Leo Barge, and with the assistance 
of Ackerstream and Bill Tamlyn, it was but the 
work of a few minutes before the chickens were 
skinned, cleaned and thrown into our dixies. 

Then we all gathered around the large old fash- 
ioned fireplace, and with the delightful smell of 
savory cooking in our nostrils, told of our experi- 
ences in securing the provisions for the dinner, and 
tales of our conquests at other times and in other 
villages, anticipating with pleasure, in the mean- 
time, the feast that would soon lay before us. 

While waiting dinner to be cooked and served, red 
and white wine, and I think a little champagne as 
well, was passed around. We had no glasses with 



IN BILLETS 147 

which to serve it and so each would drink from the 
bottle as it went around from man to man. 

On just such occasions as this, it is that the men 
in the army become really acquainted and when love 
and comradeship is forged among the fighting men 
of a regiment. On such occasions we forget any 
disagreeable past and live only in the present, let- 
ting the future take care of itself. We don't, as in 
this case, think of what unpleasant consequences 
may befall us on the morrow when the officers have 
discovered the fact that their chickens have flown. 
Such trifles, are trifles for the time being, and we 
let the future take care of them, just enjoying for 
the time the personal pleasure such ascapades and 
the loot obtained thereby bring to us. 

The dinner was satisfactory in every respect and 
as enjoyable a meal as we had ever partaken of. 
After it was over we just rolled back on the floor 
and picked our teeth with the chicken bones and 
passed remarks on the success of the dinner and the 
toughness of the "Goll darn" rooster. 

The next morning our spirits were not quite so 
high nor our conscience nearly as clear. We went 
on parade that morning with our brain full of 
thoughts of the previous night's escapade. We felt 
the time of reckoning, the time to pay the fiddler, 
had come, and we expected every moment to hear 
from the officers something concerning the loss of 
their chickens. 



148 IN BILLETS 

Nothing was said however during this drill, and 
we were kept in suspense over the matter until two 
o'clock that afternoon, when we were lined up and 
the commanding officer addressed the regiment in 
this manner: — 

"Men of the R. C. D., you are all supposed to be 
soldiers, and gentlemen as well. 

"I am sorry to say, however, that we have among 
us a man, or a set of men, low enough and mean 
enough to steal chickens. Can you imagine such a 
thing among us? A thief, a chicken thief or 
thieves." 

I at once imagined the commanding officer was 
directing his gaze and remarks particularly at me. 
I noticed also that all the members of the Fourth 
troop were becoming very uneasy. Some, in their 
discomfort, were shuffling their feet and others were 
finding apparent sudden trouble with the fit of the 
collar of their jackets. The sergeant noticed the 
uneasiness, as well, and shouted, "Steady men, keep 
still." I could see that Bigney was embarrassed 
and blushing, and Picken looked to me all the world 
like a convicted murderer. As for myself, well I 
felt just as uneasy and quite like two cents, and as 
much worse as you can possibly imagine. 

The regiment was asked if such things were 
going to continue. I could imagine every man say- 
ing, under his breath, "No, not until the next time 
the opportunity arrives." 



IN BILLETS 149 

We all looked, or tried to look, so very innocent, 
even those who were directly concerned, that the 
C. 0. finally dismissed us with these parting re- 
marks : — 

"I hate to believe any of my men would steal 
chickens, and I cannot. I have no doubt the chick- 
ens have gone to appease the appetite of the men 
of some other regigment, who are more likely to be 
capable of such an unmanly act than any man of 
the R. C. D.'s." To this conclusion and opinion we 
all agreed, and the chicken question was closed to 
our satisfaction, and I hope it may never be opened 
because of this little narrative of the doings of the 
boys while in billets. 

The foregoing statement is not to be considered 
as a confession, and I desire to say now, that should 
the case ever be opened the facts will have to be 
proven, and in doing so I am quite sure the officers 
will find the proposition fully as tough as we found 
that old rooster. 

The months of January and February, 1917, saw 
us once more well fed and in the pink of condition 
for action, and looking forward to the spring when 
we would be on our way again. 

We passed much of the time while in billets in 

hard, solid, practical training. New men from our 

reserve regiment joined us from day to day until 

the regiment was again recruited to a war footing. 

21 



150 IN BILLETS 

As usual we believed all work and no play makes 
"Tommy" a poor soldier, so we played foot ball 
afternoons, and evenings we would usually box. On 
the latter occasions officers and men would gather 
in a large room upstairs over the village cafe and 
watch the matches. 

It was great sport to witness I have no doubt. 
Just because I was a big fellow I had the presump- 
tion to think myself something of a boxer and so 
was usually one of the participants and therefore 
had little opportunity to be a spectator. 

I was the centre of attraction on many such occa- 
sions, in fact, while the boxing season lasted I could 
always be seen with either a black eye or a broken 
nose, frequently both at the same time, and often 
a bandaged hand. Some evidence I confess that I 
often got the worst of the contest. However this 
punishment, disfigurement and inconvenience all 
went with the honor that came to me of represent- 
ing my regiment in the many boxing matches. 

Finally I was chosen to represent the regiment at 
the corps boxing tournament held at Abbeville, and 
I went down there as the middleweight representa- 
tive of the Canadian cavalry brigade. Johnny Lees 
was the lightweight sent down, and Sergeant Major 
Mellville the welterweight, both from the R. C. D.'s. 

In this contest I did not last long, being knocked 
out in the second round. I never knew what hit me 



IN BILLETS 151 

until in the dressing room some one said, "Sit up 
and take this." Sergeant Major Mellville proved to 
be a better boxer and succeeded in getting into the 
finals of his class but lost out on points. 

Little Johnny Lees, the boy of whom I spoke 
before the battle of Festubert, fought his way 
through, winning the championship from the entire 
cavalry corps, which consisted of five divisions. He 
was a wonderful fighter and seemed to thrive on 
punishment. He brought the cup back to the old 
regiment, and we were all surely proud of him. 
So, you will see, even in boxing the old Canadians 
were first and bound to win at that as they had 
already done in everything else. 

Johnny, the champion boxer, was wounded at 
Gievenchy in 1915, receiving a bullet through his 
neck, and again in the battle of Cambria in Novem- 
ber, 1917, this time severely so in the abdomen while 
leading his troop over a difficult piece of ground 
in an attempt to destroy some machine gun em- 
placements. When I left the regiment information 
came that he was not expected to live,, but I hope 
and pray God he survived, and when I return I shall 
find him still growing strong and in his corner wait- 
ing for the referee to say, "Seconds out of the ring," 
and to then see him step out with that smiling face 
of his and fight his way to another victory. I hope 
this time the whole of northern France may be the 
ring, and General Haig the referee, and that when 



152 IN BILLETS 

he rings the bell and calls "Time," Johnny will go 
in and fight and again step out and with his com- 
rades share another victory for which the world 
shall give him plaudit. 

I am sure that shortly Fritz will get his knockout 
from the allied "Johnnys," and I know if the cavalry 
can but get a chance to hit in that grand finale, he 
will be knocked clean through the ropes — or over 
the Rhine, strictly speaking. 

So here's to Johnny Lees, the bravest little fighter 
and the finest little boxer I ever knew, and a soldier 
loved by his comrades and adored by his troop. 
Good luck Sergeant Lees, a return to health and a 
long life, say we all. 




CHAPTER XX 

OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

IFE in time gets monotonous to us in 
billets and we long for activity. We 
received news daily from the front, and 
we wished to be off again and fighting. 
We sort of felt that our comrades in 
the trenches were calling to us to come 
on, and help fight the battle and we seemed more or 
less like slackers after we had enjoyed a certain 
period of rest, and were fit again. 

Each night we would meet in the village cafe and 
drink "to the day." To the day when we would be 
on our way, and once more after the Hun. 

At last the orders came, and rather unexpectedly 
too, that we were to move. We had not expected 
such orders before April, and this was March, 1917. 
I shall never forget the day. The orders were an- 
nounced at six A. M., that the Canadian cavalry 
brigade would move at eight. The notice was as 
short as unexpected, but orders are to be carried 
out always, whether expected or not, and soon 
everything was in confusion in the hurried prepara- 
tion for the march. 

(153) 



154 OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

"Come along, get a move on. We move in an 
hour." 

Saddles were packed, hurried farewells said to 
our friends in the village, who in spite of the rain, 
were out to bid us good bye, and Godspeed. 

Madame Josephine, poor old soul, I can see her 
now. She came and kissed me good bye, gave me 
half a loaf of almost black bread and about a quar- 
ter of a pound of butter. Her parting words to me 
were: "Good bye my son, God have you in His 
keeping," and Au Revoir, Mon Garcon, Dieu t'entra 
sous sa Grade." 

The entire regiment was soon mounted and at ten 
o'clock on the morning of March 16th, 1917, we 
were once more on the move. 

We rode out of Bourseville that morning, with 
the feeling that we were returning to meet the Hun, 
and were going to break through this time surely, 
for the report had come in that the enemy was all 
along the line. 

What did we care now, if it was raining and the 
roads were bad. Our horses were in fine fettle and 
we men never felt better or more fit in our lives. 
At night we slept along the roadside, only posting 
sentries to look after the horses. We were in the 
saddle two days and a half, and after the first day 
we left civilization behind, again riding over the 
broken and wasted ground of the Somme. 



OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 155 

I will not describe an inch of the ground nor the 
scenes we witnesses, for it would take too long and 
only weary the reader. It will be sufficient to say 
that it was just as bad as shells and mines could 
make it. 

Two-thirty P. M., St. Patrick's day, saw us out- 
side of the town of Peronne. Peronne the goal of 
the British desire, at the battle of the Somme. We 
were ordered to push through the town and occupy 
the high slopes on the north side, and patrols were 
sent immediately to the outskirts of the town. We 
were each and every one now keyed up to the high- 
est pitch of excitement. A shell came screaming 
through the air, bursting dangerously close, so close 
that a horse was hit, and its screams of pain made 
us shudder. 

We, "B" squadron were not kept long in suspense. 
We entered Peronne, after our scouts and patrol 
parties came back and reported that the enemy 
were falling back, taking up positions on the outside 
of the town. Mr. Price, our troop officer, was or- 
dered to take his troop and clear the streets. We 
being expert "street cleaners," were delighted with 
the job. We cantered through street after street, 
sabreing the Huns who had stopped to give us a 
fight. In some cases we found the street barricaded 
with furniture of every description, but our horses 
could jump four feet at any time, and now I believe, 
under the stress of the excitement, they could and 



156 OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

would have jumped over a house, if necessary, to 
get a Hun. 

No mercy was shown the enemy. We took a few 
prisoners on that eventful afternoon, but those we 
did take were sorry looking objects. The men who 
had been left to fight a rear guard action had been 
provided with three days' rations, but inasmuch as 
they had been fighting but one day, we had the 
benefit of their two days' unsued supply, and it 
came in very handy for us you may be sure. 

We reported the streets clear at six P. M., and 
soon the whole brigade went riding throug the town 
and on to the high ridge to the north of the village, 
where the Huns were concentrated on their defense 
of Longavesnes. 

When night fell we found ourselves three kilo- 
metres north of Peronne, quite satisfied with what 
we considered a great and glorious afternoon of 
sport, excitement and victory. We rested that night 
without unsaddling our horses, but they were in 
the pink of condition, well fed, and perfectly fit for 
the coming day's fighting. We were glad to throw 
ourselves down, and get what sleep we could. 

About one o'clock the next morning, I was ordered 
to report at regimental headquarters with four men. 
I immediately awakened Picken, Bigney, James and 
Bowes. They were far from being pleased with 
this early call, but when I informed them that we 
were going out on patrol of some kind, and there 



OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 157 

was a possibility of excitement, and perhaps of some 
loot, they forgot all displeasure in their hurry to 
get ready, for loot was a word of magic to their 
ears, as you will no doubt agree since having read 
of their chicken foraging expedition. 

We were soon mounted and trotting down the road 
toward headquarters. At headquarters I received 
orders to proceed to the outskirts of the village of 
Longavesnes and report the condition of the road 
and the general lay of the land. We were not over 
pleased with the order, I confess, but we were opti- 
mistic enough to imagine we might find some "loot," 
and that gave us some encouragement for the task. 

We found "loot" all right, but not of the kind 
we had pictured in our minds or were seeking, for 
it was "eats" we were looking for naturally, being 
soldiers. 

"Picken and Bigney, you both ride ahead, and 
every hundred yards or so one of you ride back and 
keep in touch with me/" 

"Bowes and James, you fall back about three hun- 
dred yards and keep a sharp lookout. If you think 
we are being cut off, one of you fire your rifle for 
us to fall back on you." 

"I will ride in the center and watch for any at- 
tempt to divide the party." 

"We will halt when we get to the old farm house 
I showed you on the map." 



22 



158 OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

"Don't trot your horses and don't smoke. Keep 
your horses as much as possible on the soft road, 
and for the love of Mike don't fire your rifles unless 
you have to." 

"Give them the steel (sword) or take them pris- 
oners, but don't make any unnecessary noise." 

Thus I commanded and cautioned my men. 

"Right 0! corporal, we get you," they responded 
and were off. 

We had but two hours before daylight and we 
knew there was no time to lose. A machine gun 
rattled away on our right and we prayed that we 
had not been spotted, and that the bullets were not 
meant for us. 

A shell exploded at some distance ahead of me, 
and I feared for Bigney and Picken. I rode on for 
about five minutes until I saw two mounted men 
in the center of the road. I recognized Picken by 
the horse he was riding, and was much relieved to 
find both boys still on the job. 

"What's the idea," I asked coming up to them. 
"Why don't you push ahead?" 

"Just take a look down the road yourself cor- 
poral, and you'll see why," they responded. 

Sure enough, about three hundred yards down 
the road I could see a number of figures passing to 
and fro. We three dismounted and waited and were 
soon joined by Bowes and James. We now decided 



OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 159 

to push on dismounted, leaving Bowes in charge 
of the horses. 

Picken and Bigney crawled off down to the right 
of the road, and James and I took the left. We 
crawled about a hundred yards and stopped. A 
star shell was fired from the ruined farm making 
it necessary for us to lie perfectly still. I heard 
the sharp intake of breaths that James took when 
the star shell went up, and I joined him in a long 
sigh of relief when the light died down. 

Bigney now volunteered to go ahead alone and 
find out what the Huns were doing. It was almost 
daylight before he returned with some very valu- 
able information. He reported that the Huns were 
mining a road. They were expecting, of course, 
that we would advance down this road when we 
attacked the village of Longavesnes. 

In this surmise they were perfectly correct, and 
it was fortunate for most of us that young Bigney 
obtained the information concerning their opera- 
tions. 

I scrawled a hurried report and gave it to James, 
commanding him to ride to headquarters as fast as 
possible. The rest of us decided to remain for a 
half hour or more and watch the enemy movements. 
We had lain there with our rifles cocked for about 
ten minutes after James left, when we heard voices 
a little to our right, and looking, saw coming to- 
wards us a party of six Germans. 



160 OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

"Good night," we said, and opened fire. We 
dropped four and the other two instantly took to 
their heels toward the old farm. We decided unani- 
mously, this was no longer any place for us, and 
without losing any time went back to our horses. 
Bowes, having heard the shots, had started toward 
us and met us, fortunately, about half way — good 
old Bowes. We mounted in a hurry. 

All hell now seemed to have broken loose. Rifles 
and machine guns were fired as rapidly as they 
could, and in the gray dawn we could see numbers 
of men trying to outflank us on the right, but noth- 
ing doing. We stuck our spurs into our horses' sides 
and off we went down that road, "hell for leather" 
followed by a hail of lead. Bigney's horse was hit, 
but it did not appear to be seriously injured. 

We were all beginning to shake hands with our- 
selves for our lucky escape, when a shell dropped 
just ahead of us and my horse Springbuck, shiv- 
ered as if she were cold and fell like a stone. Her 
breast had been laid open and her off foreleg bro- 
ken. The other boys stopped but I directed them 
to get out, while there was still a chance for safety. 
They waved their hands and said "good bye," and 
they left me. 

The Huns had given up the chase it appeared, 
and so the boys knew I would make my way back 
on foot. 

"Good bye Springbuck." 



OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 161 

I looked down at old Springbuck whose life was 
fast ebbing away, and said "Good bye old girl." I 
patted her neck, and she looked up at me with those 
great big eyes of hers, and I could almost imagine 
her trying to tell me that she was sorry she could 
not carry me back to safety. Poor faithful old girl. 
I hated to shoot her, but she was suffering so I felt 
that it would be a kindness, and so I knelt down, 
kissed her bloody snout, and then placed my rifle 
against her forehead and pulled the trigger. She 
simply stiffened up and passed away, out there on 
the road from Longavesnes, and there, with a heavy 
heart and tears in my eyes, I left her. The one 
and only pal, I ever loved. My first horse, Spring- 
buck. 

"Good old Springbuck, you were wild and so was I; 
You were the gamest though the first to die, 
Were there ever pals like you and I 
Springbuck?" 

"Holy smoke look who's here! The corporal rid- 
ing a gol darn mule." 

"Gee! you look right at home on that jackass, 
corporal." 

"Where did you get it? Where is Springbuck. 
Did you trade her off for a mule?" 

These were some of the remarks with which p 
was greeted from all sides, as I rode into camp about 
six A. M. 



162 OFF FOR LONGAVESNES 

I threw myself off the mule, and giving it a kick 
let it ramble on its way. I tried to answer all the 
questions at once, and when I told the boys that 
my Springbuck, the outlaw, had gone "West," I 
witnessed one of the greatest tributes that could be 
given a horse. 

My comrades broke away and began to make 
themselves quite busy around their own horses. I 
could see them place their arms around their necks 
and talk a lot of nonsense to them. I also saw some 
of the boys take off their steel helmets with the 
remark "gal darn heavy." 

"Springbuck, you were loved by my comrades as 
well as by your own rider. 

"Springbuck, the Black troop salutes you, and ac- 
cords you the honor due a faithful horse who died 
in the performance of duty to man." 

I made my report to Major Timmis and told him 
of the loss of my horse, and how while walking back 
I had commandeered a mule which was being used 
in carrying ammunition somewhere. Major Timmis 
(or good "Old Timmy" as we called him) was a 
lover of horses, as well as a good and true soldier 
and a gentleman, and I knew he shared some of my 
feeling in the loss of my horse. 




CHAPTER XXI 

STORMING AND CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 

SQUADRON will take up its position in 
the south side of the wood facing Long- 
avesnes." 

"Hurrah! we are going to attack." 
What did we care if we had only 
bully beef and biscuit for breakfast? 
What did we care if we were soaked to the skin 
from the drizzling rain that was falling? 

"A" squadron was going to attack on the right 
flank. "C" squadron on the left and that placed 
"B" squadron in the center. 

We, the fourth troop under Sergeant Easthrope, 
were sent out to occupy a hill overlooking the vil- 
lage of Longavesnes. We pushed on and took up 
our position at about nine o'clock in the morning. 
We sent out patrols in every direction, until the 
whole valley was dotted with little spots of moving 
cavalry. Away on our left could be seen the ar- 
mored cars rushing up the road, and firing a stream 
of lead into the fleeing Huns. Overhead the air- 
planes were flying at a high altitude and observing 
the movements of the enemy. It was here, before 

(163) 



164 CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 

we attacked Longavesnes that we had the pleasure 
of witnessing one of the finest aero combats of the 
war. 

Our aircraft guns had been hammering for ten 
minutes at some invisible object in the air. Natu- 
rally we were looking to see what they were aiming 
at. Soon we saw through our field glasses one of 
the German's famous Gothes sailing out of the 
clouds towards us. At a given signal the air craft 
gun ceased action, and soon we saw the reason, for 
out of nowhere apparently, came another small 
speck in the shape of a British airplane who soon 
opened fire on the GGotha. 

The fire between these two birds in the air was 
not lasting but while it did last it was more thrill- 
ing and exciting. We could hear the rattle of the 
machine guns as they fired at one another, and we 
could see them manoeuvre in the air for position. 
We saw our plane dive once and do the "corkscrew" 
and it appeared to us that she must dive to the 
ground. A groan went up and curses from our men 
were heaped upon the Gotha. Imagine our joy when 
in the next instant we saw our plane shoot once 
more away on level keel and begin to climb, and 
climb until she was far above the Hun. Then from 
this height with a great wild swoop she came down 
on her enemy firing at the same time a machine 
gun with great rapidity. We saw the Gotha stag- 
ger in her flight, and knew that she had been hit 



CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 165 

Then she burst into flame and came crashing to the 
ground a heap of broken and smoking machinery. 

A great cheer was sent up, helmets were waved 
and everyone began to pay tribute to the "kid up 
there" who had fought so skilfully and had brought 
down the German plane. As all good soldiers do, 
we then turned our attention to and paid the silent 
tribute to the poor boy in the Gotha, who had fought 
so well and had so bravely and gloriously gone to 
his death. 

"You take your machine gun and take up a posi- 
tion, so you can cover the advance of the troop when 
they attack the village/' I was commanded. 

"Very good sergeant," I replied and started off. 

I took my men and cantered up behind a clump 
of trees, and came into action with the simple com- 
mand, "Halt," "Action front." 

Soon we were blazing away at nothing in particu- 
lar, but for the purpose merely of keeping Fritz 
occupied while we made the attack. Two men gal- 
loped towards us to see if the wire was cut. One 
threw up his hands and fell from his saddle. We 
wondered who it was and immediately shoved an- 
other belt of ammunition into the breach of the gun 
and kept on firing. 

In a very short time the whole valley seemed to 
be alive with mounted men and all sides of the vil- 
lage was attacked. We could see troop after troop 
gallop across the open with the sun flashing on their 
23 



166 CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 

sabres, men leaning well forward in their saddles, 
and then pass from view. 

The enemy's fire gradually died down, growing 
weaker and weaker until it died out entirely. The 
village of Longavesnes had fallen to the R. C. D.'s, 
and the gallant Royal Canadian Horse Artillery. 
When our comrades reached the village we ceased 
fire, and immediately mounted and galloped off to 
see it for ourselves. Here we found the men dis- 
mounted and resting their horses, while the signals 
were busy sending messages back to headquarters 
to the effect that the village was in our hands. 

Here a bunch of prisoners, who had thrown down 
their rifles were being searched and examined by 
Major Timmins the officer in charge. As we rode 
up we were greeted with such remarks as — "Good 
old Hotchkiss, you sure gave them hell, ,, and "Look 
at that bunch over there, you must have caught 
them napping." 

The dead referred to were all in a heap and none 
apparently ever knew whad had struck them. 

"Oh! well fellows," we replied, "don't blame it all 
on the Hotchkiss crew, because we passed quite a 
number who were never killed by a rifle bullet.' 

At that one or two of the men commenced to jab 
their swords into the soft ground in an attempt to 
clean them, trying to pass it off, as it were, that the 
rain had made their blades rusty. 



CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 167 

We received orders to occupy the village until the 
infantry came up and took it over. We at once 
posted a sentry and made ourselves comfortable. 
The first thing we did was to send all the wounded 
back to the rear, both friend and foe, and then bury 
the dead, after which we found water for our horses 
and looked after our own personal cares. 

We were all dead tired and at eleven o'clock that 
night were glad to throw ourselves anywhere, and 
get some sleep. My comrades and myself found 
quarters and slept that night in a vault, among the 
ancient dead of France. 

In connection with the taking of Longavesnes, I 
desire to include a description as given me by Ser- 
geant Sager, as follows — 

"An incident which impressed me greatly was the 
taking of Longavesnes by the Strathcona Horse. 

"My troop under Lieutenant Cunningham was de- 
tailed to watch the village of Sorel, and prevent the 
Germans from making any demonstration from 

there. Sorel was on the left of L , and one 

mile from it. 

"We left Templeux-la-Fosse at five P. M. and 
galloped along the Nurlu road, more or less under 
shell fire, arriving at our position we left our horses 
in a sunken road, and took up a position 700 yards 
from Sorel. 

"The enemy of course must have seen us, as they 
began pelting us with a field gun and we had some 
narrow escapes but fortunately no one was hit. 



168 CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 

"We hugged the ground pretty closely and awaited 
developments. At six-thirty P. M. we saw the 
Strathcona debouch from Nurlu behind us, in lines 
of troop column. As soon as they reached the open, 
they formed column of squadrons (that is to say 
each squadron in line, one behind the other). They 
executed this movement exactly as they would have 
done it on parade without the slightest confusion 
or haste, although by this time the enemy had their 
range, and was pelting them with shrapnel. 

'They broke into a smooth gallop heading for 



"We had a splendid view of the attack, and as I 
remark, it made a great impression on me. The 
three lines of horsemen were so perfectly aligned, 
that one would imagine some invisible giant was 
keeping them aligned with a ruler. 

"As soon as a gap was made by shrapnel or ma- 
chine guns (which by this time were playing on 
them) it was immediately closed, and the three lines 
galloped on, leaving a few fallen men and horses in 
their wake, until they finally disappeared from view 
in the trees surrounding the village. 

"In this engagement, Major Chriteley of the 
Strathcona Horse received the wound from which he 
died a few days later, and Lieutenant Harvey won 
the Victoria Cross by capturing a machine gun sin- 
gle handed after killing the crew. 

"They handed the village over to the infantry 



CAPTURING LONGAVESNES 169 

after its defendenrs were either killed or captured, 
and came back at midnight." 

We were forgotten, and remained shivering all 
night in our position, till finally Lieutenant Cun- 
ningham decided to move back on his own responsi- 
bility just before dawn. 

When we arrived at our camp, we unsaddled and 
fed our horses and dropped down in the mud to fall 
instantly asleep. 

I woke up at eleven A. M. to find a fine layer of 
snow covering me, and hardly able to move, as we 
had been having a week of this sort of thing. I 
saw what I thought was someone asleep beside me 
with his blanket drawn over his head. On my 
shaking him to wake him up, I found I was shaking 
a dead body. It turned out to be Private Faulkner, 
who had been killed while on my patrol the previous 
day reconnoitring the village of Longavesnes, and 
had been brought in after the capture of that vil- 
lage, by Sergeant Major Melville. 

I heard a funny story in connection with the cap- 
ture of Longavesnes. Sergeant Jones in command 
of the Fourth troop Hotchkiss gun mistook a party 
of imperial infantry for Germans, and promptly 
opened fire on them, making them hop and scurry 
for shelter. They frenziedly tried to signal but the 
inexorable stream of bullets kept coming. Their 
language was terrific, as it was a Cockney regiment 
and they blasted and blinded him from the crown 
of his head to the soles of his feet." 



CHAPTER XXII 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 




HE OLD vault was some place to sleep, 
I don't think, yet it was dry and not 
too cold. Our horses were comfortable, 
we knew anyway. We were not dis- 
turbed until the next morning, and then 
only when the sound of cheering 
reached our ears. At its sound we all scrambled out 
to see what it was all about. (We slept booted and 
spurred in those days so we did not have any elab- 
orate toilet to make.) We beheld a most romantic 
sight, for swinging down the road in columns of 
fours came our comrades, the infantry, that gallant 
old regiment, the Worcester shires. The village by 
this time was bathed in sunshine and the street was 
soon lined with men of our regiment, some shaving, 
some washing and some making tea. All stopped 
their respective operations to greet and cheer our 
pals of the infantry, who had come up to relieve us. 
"Hello you gravel crushers," we called to them. 
"Its nearly time you arrived. 
(170) 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 171 

"Where have you been, and how do you expect 
us to finish this war, if we have to wait on you all 
this time?" 

"To this sally they would reply, with a smile, 
"Why you lot of 'swank pots,' we do more real fight- 
ing in five minutes, than you chaps do in five days." 
"We are pretty slow in getting anywhere, we admit, 
but we are always sure." To which we would reply, 
"Sure you are." Soon all chaffing would cease, and 
the real business would be carried out. 

The village was now in the hands of the infantry, 
and our commanding officer informed the command- 
ing officer of the infantry just where to expect the 
next attack, where our outposts were, and the gen- 
eral lay of the village. 

We were now going to push on ahead and capture 
a high ridge which the enemy were holding and 
which commanded the village, and to assure us that 
he was there a machine gun opened fire from the 
ridge causing us all to duck for a moment for cover. 
So long Longavesnes, we are off to capture the 
ridge. Mr. Gwyne, our troop officer, was still with 
the general and we of the Fourth troop were placed 
under the command of Mr. Price, the officer com- 
manding the Third troop. 

Our orders were to take the ridge and hold it at 
any cost. The First and Second troops went away 
to the right as raiders and on reconnoisance. 
Patrols were at once sent out in every direction, and 



172 WE COME INTO OUR OWN 

the main body then mounted and left the village 
with words of encouragement from the old Worces- 
tershire regiment. 

Artillery on both sides now opened up. Our fire 
was directed mainly on the ridge which we were 
setting out to attack. The Germans were now firing 
on the village with light field guns, and as shell 
after shell dropped into the village, we thought of 
the old Worcestershires and congratulated ourselves 
on our prompt and timely departure. 

"Corporal Jones, you will take two machine guns, 
and take up a position on the left flank of that wood 
over there, open fire on the enemy and keep firing 
until the attack is over. We, of the main body will 
attack the ridge as soon as our artillery barrage 
lifts," commanded Major Timmins, who was in 
charge of the operations. 

We left the main body at once with a wave of our 
hands and a whoop and a yell. We of the machine 
gun crew cantered oif to take up our positions. 
Arriving, I commanded "Halt, dismount action 
front." The guns were swung off their packs, am- 
munition boxes and carts picked up by the men, the 
horses handed over to the horse holder and in less 
than two minutes we were in action. 

"Chambers," I commanded, "you and I will stay 
behind this small knoll. Young, you take your gun 
and get over to my left about forty yards, and for 
the love of Mike give them hell." 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 173 

"Here they come, give them automatic. Shove 
another strip in, Shortis, at three hundred yards. 

Fire." 

Brrrr— the attack began. The Huns were appar- 
ently taken by surprise. Young's gun was working 
like a charm. The Huns did not seem to be able 
to locate us, and they dropped down and waited 
while we kept on firing. Our artillery barrage lifted 
and fell among them. They scrambled to their feet 
and ran towards us. We mowed them down as 
they came, but they kept on coming and were get- 
ting closer and closer. My gun jammed and I 
offered a prayer, while Shortis cursed the gun. 
Young's gun was still working like a charm, and 
kept the enemy from getting too close. 

I now heard the thunder of hoofs, looked about 
and saw a flash of steel and with a great yell we 
watched the old Black troop and the Third troop 
charging through the wood and closing in again 
rode knee to knee and cut their way through the 
fleeing Huns. 

"All right Shortie, the jam is fixed. Now six 
hundred yards, fire." 

"Seven hundred yards." 

"Eight hundred yards." 

"Nine hundred yards." 

"One thousand yards, cease fire." 

The Huns were either killed or captured to a man 
and the troop swung around and occupied the ridge. 
24 



174 WE COME INTO OUR OWN 

As soon as our line of fire was clear of our own 
men, we commenced firing again, but at random, 
just to make a noise and to keep any reinforcements 
of the enemy from coming up. 

"Great Heavens, what do you know about this? 
Here comes Timmie' (Major Timmins), and walk- 
ing at that. He must be crazy," I exclaimed. 

There sure enough, coming towards us was the 
major, bearing an apparently charmed life, for the 
shells were dropping all around and he seemed to 
take no notice of them. His hands were in his coat 
pocket, and he walked along so unconcerned that we 
were sure he would be hit before he reached us. 

When the major came up to us, he looked our 
position over complimented us on the cover we had 
taken for both ourselves and our horses and on the 
good work we were doing. He asked how many 
casualties we had had. 

"One horse and two men killed," I replied. 

"Carry on," he said. "I will go and see what Mr. 
Price is doing." 

Things were beginning to get warm in the neigh- 
borhood of the ridge. The Huns, we felt, must 
have brought up reinforcements and were now mak- 
ing a counter charge to take the ridge. 

Would reinforcements reach us in time was the 
thought in our minds. We must stay here how- 
ever and keep up a brisk fire. While our pals were 
up against it with but their rifles and bayonets to 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 175 

ward off an attack. We could only wish we were 
with them, and "Carry on." 

"Hello! here comes young James riding towards 
us." He reaches us and halts. "Corporal Jones, 
compliments of Mr. Price. His orders are: You 
will send at once one machine gun to support the 
troop now holding the ridge on the right of your 
position. The other gun is to remain in action here 
and keep up a continuous stream of fire until sup- 
port comes up." 

I at once gave instructions for the carrying out 

of these orders. 

"Young, you stay here with your crew, we will 
take our gun in support to the boys on the ridge. 
Now boy, it's up to you to protect the left flank. 
Don't get excited. Just let them know that you 
are still here and have lots of ammunition." 

"All right, corporal," Young replied. "I guess 
I can stick it out as long as they can." 

"James, we will be with you in a second," I called. 

"Shortie Chambers, you signal the horses and I'll 
get the gun ready." 

The horses came up and the Huns evidently ob- 
served us getting ready to leave, for a shell dropped 
near us and a horse went down with a scream. 
Shortie placed the ammunition on a pack horse but 
I had no time to fix the gun on, so I attached the 
strap, threw the gun over my shoulder and gave 
the order to mount. I ordered young Stroud to 



176 WE COME INTO OUR OWN 

make his way over on foot as soon as he had taken 
the saddle from his horse, which had been killed. 

Another shell dropped ahead of us and we won- 
dered, would we ever reach there. 

"James you lead on," I commanded. 

Off we went to be greeted by a rain of machine 
gun bullets and rode together at a dead gallop. I 
looked to my right and then to my left, expecting 
to see some of the men hit. But no, right through 
that hail of death, we rode with a curse on our lips 
wondering if we would make it and be on time. 

We found the boys very hard pressed, but still 
holding. Thank God, we were on time. We saw 
them lying flat on their stomachs, and pumping 
lead into the oncoming Huns. They heard us com- 
ing, looked around and a cheer rent the air. 

"Good boys/' we answered and sang out, "Here 
we are, here we are again.' ' 

"Halt, action, dismount." 

It was but the work of a moment. Our gun was 
on the ground. Shortie brought up the ammuni- 
tion, and we were in action. 

"Load at two hundred yards, automatic fire." 

Brrrr — we got them. Another strip of ammuni- 
tion — the Huns wavered. Another — they halted. 

"Another, Shortie, and they are ours," I cried. 

The Huns now sought cover, but our pals shouted, 
"Come on you gol darn Huns, come on, we have 
lots of ammunition yet." 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 177 

The whistle now blew, "Cease fire." 

"Where are the Huns now," we asked. Probably 
taking cover and waiting for reinforcements before 
continuing their attack, we concluded. 

I now looked about me and what a sight I beheld. 
Behind us lay a number of German prisoners scared 
stiff. Such of my comrades as were left were still 
lying on the ground and looking to their supply of 
ammunition. Mr. Price was walking up and down, 
cheering the men, and I guess, as well, praying for 
reinforcements. 

Corporal Craddock's rifle again rang out and a 
Hun who had broken cover, threw up his hands 
and toppled over. 

There, behind his dead horse, Corporal Speedie 
lay busy cleaning his rifle. 

Here and there a comrade lay stiff in death, still 
clutching his rifle, indicating his faithfulness to the 
last minute. 

Ahead were the still gray forms of what once 
were German soldiers. 

As I looked and reflected on the scene, I won- 
dered at it all and what it meant, this reckless tak- 
ing of life. 

Away in the distance, we could see German rein- 
forcements forming, but they were yet out of our 
range. Would our supports ever come? We were 
tired and weary. Oh! so weary and thirsty. We 
knew we could not hold out in another attack much 



178 WE COME INTO OUR OWN 

longer. Our ammunition was getting low, and we 
wanted to have it finished and have it quick. 

"A squadron of cavalry coming, on the right, sir." 

Mr. Price was observing them through his field 
glasses, but could not distinguish them. We feared 
that it might be the enemy and so said our prayers, 
filled our magazines, and gave ourselves up for lost. 

They came closer and closer. 

•'It's our boys, 'A' squadron," soon announced Mr. 
Price. 

Sure enough, at a canter, came "A" squadron 
riding low but connectedly. The Hun machine guns 
had spotted them too and were trying to get their 
range, but as yet they were firing too high. Across 
the open they came. Oh! what a grand sight to 
see that splendid body of mounted men coming to- 
ward us. Around them the dirt and dust was being 
thrown up by the enemy's bullets, but on they came. 

A man in the front rank fell over on his horse's 
neck and a comrade by his side stretched out his 
hand and held him from falling from his horse. 
Will they ever make the ridge, we ask ourselves. 
Can they make it? 

"Come on, you have got to make it. Come on," 
we called. 

Their pace increased and over they came just in 
time. With a cheer, they dismounted and rushed 
forward to take our place. Just to show the Huns 
they had arrived, they at once commenced firing in 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 179 

their direction with such rapidity that the Germans 
must have thought a whole brigade had come to our 
assistance. 

Mr. Price immediately handed over the position 
to "A" squadron, and we prepared to leave, taking 
our prisoners with us. We had sixteen prisoners 
which had to be herded back of the ridge. Our 
number was now seventeen, including the Hotchkiss 
machine gun crew, so it was decided to mount and 
leave in parties of three, of four, and two of five, 
each party taking along four Huns. 

The first party got away all right, but the Huns 
spotted the second party and began to shell us. It 
was funny, to say the least, to see a German pris- 
oner hanging onto the stirrup of one of the boy's 
saddles and running as fast as he possibly could 
until the shelling forced the rider to increase his 
speed to such an extent that the German could not 
keep up and would be forced to let go his hold on 
his captive's stirrup. 

Then he would topple over and over and as soon 
as he regained his feet would again run after his 
captor, until he too had gotten over the ridge into 
safety. We were soon all out of dangegr, a sad, 
weary, dirty crew, but proud of the fact that we 
had captured and held the ridge. 

Mr. Price was decorated with the Military Cross, 
and Sergeant Easthrope with the Military Medal. 
What I got out of it was a loaf of black bread 

25 



180 WE COME INTO OUR OWN 

which I took away from one of the German pris- 
oners, and in addition, a barrel of fun while the 
fight lasted. 

Our troop and the Third troop went back to the 
wood where we found water for ourselves and our 
horses, and there handed the prisoners over to Gen- 
eral headquarters. We were now expecting and 
planning to rest for the night, when an orderly rode 

up and told Mr. Price to proceed at once to S 

where the whole brigade was going to make a 
mounted attack. We were stiff and sore and our 
horses were tired. They walked with drooping 
heads, and we were so tired we could scarcely sit 
straight on our saddles. We tried to trot our horses 
but there was no more trot left in them. Our pack 
horse eventually stopped dead, and knelt down ut- 
terly exhausted. Mr. Price gave the order for one 
man to stay with her, while we pushed on. 

We rode for about half an hour, and soon found 
the whole brigade, excepting "A" squadron which 
was still holding the ridge. Mr. Price reported his 
men to the commanding officer who immediately 
reported to General Seeley, in command of the 
operation. 

General Seeley rode over, and when he saw us 
said, "Let those men go back and take cover some- 
where and sleep. They cannot sit on their horses, 
let along fight." 



WE COME INTO OUR OWN 181 

We faced about but did not have to go far, for a 
little wood nearby afforded us cover. We tied our 
horses up, only loosening their girths, threw our- 
selves down without any thought of eating and were 
soon fast asleep. 



25 



CHAPTER XXIII 



A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 




HILE we slept the "Old Brigade" 
charged and cut their way through two 
villages, reaping for themselves and 
Canada a crown of glory. 

We were not disturbed until eleven 
o'clock the next morning, and I believe 
we would have still slept on had not an orderly 
found us and informed Mr. Price that he was to 
report at once with his party to the regiment. We 
had not eaten for almost twenty-four hours, nor 
had our horses had any feed during that period. 
I would have given my life that morning for an 
opportunity to rest. We were all so weary, so mis- 
erable and so hungry. 

Yesterday we were filled with excitement and the 
joy of living. Yesterday our veins tingled with the 
lust to kill. Oh! but the awakening, what a jar 
to our souls and what memories of yesterday awoke 

and troubled us. 

(182) 



A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 183 

You, who read, can hardly imagine our mental 
and physical feelings, tired, miserable, our whole 
bodies stiff and sore. As for our horses, we could 
imagine something how they felt, poor dumb pals. 
Some a little lame, some wounded but all holding 
out, like brave creatures they certainly were. Can 
you wonder at the depth of our despondency with 
it all. You who have read in Bunyan's "Pilgrim's 
Progress" of the slough of despair can know some- 
thing of how we felt on this morning. 

We would have given our souls for a good square 
meal and to make matters worse, there was not a 
cigarette in the crowd and our clothes were dirty 
and torn, but we realized we were soldiers and so 
must smile and obey. Mr. Price gave the order to 
mount and we climbed into our saddles as best we 
could, a sorry, bedraggled and dejected bunch of 
humanity. 

The honor we had won for ourselves and our regi- 
ment, faded into insignificance when we thought of 
our empty stomachs and those of our tired horses. 
However someone in the ranks, was still possessed 
with some life and enthusiasm and cried out, I can 
hear it even now. 

"Who are we?" and the shout is taken up by the 
boys, 

"We are the boys of the R. C. D. We are rough, 
we are tough, we come from Toronto, and that's 
enough." 



184 A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 

Yes, we were tough and we were able to "Smile 
and Carry on" still, so we camouflaged our feelings 
with a smile and rode out to join our regiment 
somewhere in the vicinity. We soon found and 
rejoined our regiment including "A" squadron, who 
had been relieved by the infantry. "A" squadron 
informed us that the Huns had given up all hope 
of taking the ridge just then. 

Soon the whole brigade was on the move back to 
some village in the rear, the Third cavalry division 
having come up by now to relieve us and continue 
the chase. It is needless to say, that we were not 
what could be called a gay party that night, under 
the conditions and feelings already described and 
more so from the sight of the many empty saddles 
in the ranks as we journeyed back. 

As we rode on we reflected on what war really 
meant. The loss forever of dear comrades. We 
would recall the scenes of the previous days, when 
we were all together and noting the absence of this 
and that comrade, would think of what we saw 
him do last and try to remember some words spoken 
by him. We would also picture just how he met 
his death, perhaps he had galloped back to cut a 
trip wire or he may have nobly and bravely sacri- 
ficed himself to bring a comrade back. 

Then we would wonder how the loved ones back 
home would feel when they learned he had fallen 
"somewhere in France." With these thoughts rac- 



A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 185 

ing one after another through our brains, we were 
not ashamed to be caught wiping a tear from our 
eyes. I can truthfully say that there is no one 
thing which brings home to a cavalry soldier the 
fact that "war is hell," more forcibly than the 
empty saddle on the return from the battle, often 
stained with the blood of the rider. 

But a soldier can not and must not dwell long on 
memories and so I will not here. 

After a two days' ride we came to a place called 
Cappy, where we got straightened out, as we call 
it, in the form of reinforcements, etc. — that is, had 
our ranks filled up again. In four days' time we 
were on our way again, this time in good spirits 
singing and joking. The weather was splendid, the 
roads good and we had an abundance of things to 
eat, plenty of smokes and if I may whisper it a 
clean change of clothing and for the time at any 
rate, were free of our old bosom friends, the cooties 
or gray backs. So why worry? 

Our marches through northern France were 
always interesting, to say the least, but I must not 
dwell too long on these details, for I too, as you no 
doubt do, want to see the beginning and the end of 
the march that is to end this story. 

On or about the 5th of April, 1917, saw us in 
the village of Athies, just south of St. Quentin. 
Here was to be our hunting ground for the next 



186 A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 

few months and so we selected a site and camped 
by the side of a little stream. 

This village and the villages adjoining had been 
destroyed by the fleeing Huns, not a house or a 
building of any description had been left standing. 
Fruit trees had been deliberately cut down and even 
the graveyards had been dug up, vaults broken open 
and the coffins stripped of the metal. The whole 
country was a scene of waste. 

We at once set to work to make a home for our- 
selves. We built stables and made huts and in just 
eight days each troop had a stable for the. horses 
and a place for every man to sleep. 

Corporals Taylor, Sharp, Mayman and myself built 
for ourselves a little hut on top of a knoll over- 
looking the river and the ruined village, not par- 
ticularly on this site because of the view, but be- 
cause the lumber needed was found close by in the 
dugouts lately occupied by the Germans. It took 
us but four hours to build our residence and quite 
some house it was thus constructed. At first it had 
no roof or floor, simply four sides and a doorway, 
and, oh yes — a window. We later secured a large 
tarpaulin or trench cover which we used for a roof. 

The night the hut was finished we decided to fur- 
nish it and so when our day's work was over, we 
would go each day on a foraging expedition, return- 
ing with all kinds of junk we found in and about 
the village. We secured a table, a large candle- 



A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 187 

stick, a few pots, a baby carriage, some old dirty 
pictures and a bed spring. With this outfit we 
began housekeeping and soon felt quite at home and 
very comfortable. 

We now turned our attention to the decorations, 
adding to the walls some of our own photos and 
those of girls contributed by Corporal Sharp, thus 
finding ourselves with quite a picture gallery. A 
flag was added here and there and each day one of 
us would find and bring back some additional article 
of furniture and soon we had a place not only com- 
fortable but really attractive and homelike as well. 

We thought it only fitting that our place should 
have a name and finally settled on the "Home of 
Scandal," as appropriate. At night we invited our 
friends around and spent the event in singing, play- 
ing, jokes, telling funny stories, cooking fancy 
dishes and drinking wine, and in general having the 
time of our young lives. 

During all that month of April the weather was 
fine and had it not been for the rumble of guns in 
the distance I believe we would have forgotten 
almost that there was a war. 

Under the circumstances we had our sports, as 
usual playing football, baseball and cricket. Yes 
we Canadians even played cricket, though I do not 
recall that we ever won a game. The greatest 
event of the war, however, that is, musical and 
social, came in the shape of a regimental concert 



188 A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 

held while here at Athies. A stage was set and a 
regular program made out. 

The colonel offered 50f for the best piece of poe- 
try pertaining to our last fight. One night before 
the concert, when in what I thought might be a 
poetic mood, I sat down and with thoughts on the 
prize, produced the following, which I called a poem 
and which was read during the course of the even- 
ing's program — 

"Will you listen to the story 

Of the gallant R. C. D.'s 
Who came to France three years ago 

Without their Gee,, Gee, Gee's. 

Now if I try to tell of weary marches made, 

Of how troopers hoofed it on bread and marmalade 

But no, I am not trying to write a hard luck tale, 
Nor trying to make you sore. 

I'm tellingg you of all the things 

In sunny France they bore, 
How they stuck it in the trenches 

Up to their necks in gore. 

Say! What they did without their horses would fill 
a book or more, 
But at last the day the order came, 
You will mount those R. C. D.'s again. 

And ever since then we have been on the bum, 
While grooming and training a long faced chum. 

Now they taught us in the trenches just how to 
shoot a Hun, 
But it took the boys of the R. C. D.'s to make the 
beggars run. 
For it's now we have left the trenches and fight in 
the open plain. 
And it's hats off boys, and a Hip, Hip, Hurrah, 
We've come into our own again. 



A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 189 

The Canadians, you know are not much for show, 
They don't polish and burnish like some troops 
we know, 
And the officers tell us that we are a sight, 

But God! they are proud of us when it comes to 
a fight. 

Now it happened one day not long ago, two troops, 
I wont mention, made a great show, 
But I'll try to tell you how it was done, 
How we charged over a ridge and captured the Hun, 
We were seventeen in number when we broke 
through, 
And that included the "Hotchkiss crew." 

Now the Hotchkiss, they say, isn't much use, 
And they sure do stand some awful abuse, 
But out to the flank the Hotchkiss sped, 
And they filled those Huns so full of lead, 

That many a Uhlan from his saddle dropped dead. 

Then we watched the troop go through the wood 
And kill all the Huns they possibly could. 

Say, while the fight lasted, Oh! Gee it was fun, 
And that's all of the story of the ridge we won. 

And when with our prisoners we rode away 
A Hun who spoke English, I heard him say, 

"Mein Gott in Himmel!" Oh it was over soon, 

But what else could you expect from the Cana- 
dian Dragoon. 

The boys of the Third and Fourth troop thought 
my literary production great. So did I, but the 
colonel evidently didn't think so much of it, for he 
gave the 50f to another budding young poet. How- 
ever I felt amply repaid for my effort in the encore 
after encore I received from the "Old Black Troop," 
and considered myself fortunate after all in not win- 
ning the prize for the reason that the chap who did 
26 



190 A SOLDIER'S HOME IN FRANCE 

receive the 50f was ever after called "Maggie" and 
encouraged by the boys to let his hair grow long, 
and was advised to save his 50f till after the war 
when no doubt he could finish his education as a 
poet. 



CHAPTER XXIV 



THE FIFTH OF APRIL, 1917 




E, THE Canadian cavalry brigade, were 
now having a great time, in fact we 
were enjoying every moment of our 
lives. The weather was perfect and I, 
for one, would not have changed places 
with any of my honored friends back 
home. I had never before spent a vacation that 
afforded quite as much happiness and pleasure as 
this stay in and around Athies. Our horses too 
were enjoying the rest, and with plenty of food and 
sufficient exercise they were soon in fine fettle. 

It was while here, as far as we who were Ameri- 
cans were particularly concerned, that real history 
in connection with the war was made. 

From the early days of my soldier life in 1914, 
until the fifth day of April, 1917, no day stands out 
more prominently in my mind than that great day. 
I say great day. Reader can you deny it? I, a 
soldier, say no. April 5th, 1917, will go down in 
history as a red letter day in this great world war. 

(191) 



192 THE FIFTH OF APRIL, 1917 

Since 1914, those other soldiers in France who 
had come from the United States of America, as 
well as myself, were looked upon as having entered 
the war with little or no motive beyond that of 
adventure. At times we found it necessary to take 
off our coats and fight for the honor of the United 
States, when the failure to ally itself actively with 
the enemy of humanity was criticized, and I assure 
you we were always glad to do so, yet we could not 
help feeling that we wanted our country to take a 
hand in the fight for right. 

In April, 1917, I was a corporal. I had served 
and fought since 1914, with soldiers of a strange 
country, and had pushed myself forward a bit,, not 
far, it is true, but I had to prove to my comrades 
that I was just as good and just as faithful a soldier 
as any of them, and in this I succeeded I know, but 
they could not understand why the United States 
did not declare war against the common enemy on 
the great principle for which my country stood — 
Democracy. Neither could I, and so I could not 
satisfy their query on this subject. 

I may also state that the Canadians were sorely 
disappointed in their cousins across the line. But 
on that eventful day — April 5th — what a change, 
what an upheaval, as it were of feelings. On receipt 
of news of what happened that day in Washington, 
they went wild — simply wild. 



THE FIFTH OF APRIL, 1917 193 

Let me give to you, if I may, a pen picture of the 
feeling that day in our regiment, and I am positive 
the feeling I shall describe prevailed throughout the 
entire Canadian forces from General Currie,, the 
commander-in-chief of the Canadian forces, to the 
rawest recruit. 

We had finished for the day and our horses were 
peacefully feeding in the stables we had constructed 
for them. The time was five P. M. The whole val- 
ley was bathed in sunshine, and the only thing that 
marred the beauty of the scene was the ruins of the 
village on our left. The stream along which we 
were camped seemed at the time to be singing some 
French love song. 

Overhead swarms of aeroplanes were manoeuvring. 
A trumpet sounds. We fall in just as we are, some 
without caps, and our jackets off and shirts open at 
the neck. We double up and take our respective 
places. We wonder what is coming off. Something 
unusual we feel sure. Are we to move out in a 
hurry, we ask ourselves. 

Soon our adjutant, Mr. Moss, accompanied by the 
colonel, appeared. The regiment was ordered to 
attention, and then the adjutant began to read the 
formal declaration of war made by the United States 
against Germany. He was about to "carry on" 
with the balance of the declaration, but when he 
said "This day the United States of America has 
declared war on Germany," he got no further, for 



194 THE FIFTH OF APRIL, 1917 

up went a whoop and a yell. Discipline was wholly 
forgotten. The men simply went wild. Those who 
had caps on took them off and threw them into the 
air, those who had no caps threw their arms around 
and cheered and cheered until they were hoarse. 

Some ran to the stables and mounted their horses 
without a thought of saddle and rode out with a 
whoop and a yell. The horses seemed to take on 
something of the spirit also, for they stamped and 
pawed amidst all the excitement and din. The men 
also broke into the stores and drank to the health 
of Uncle Sam with the rum they borrowed for the 
occasion. 

Oh! you people back home in the States can sing 
"The Yanks Are Coming," etc., but you did not 
know and can never know what cheer and encour- 
agement you gave those Canadian cousins of yours, 
that day you declared war against our powerful 
enemy. 

All we could hear now was — "Good Old Uncle 
Sam, now we'll lick them." 

"Leave it to us now — Uncle Sam and Canada." 

"Come Sammy, we are waiting. We'll go over 
the top together and we'll finish it together." 

"Look out now Fritz. We have got you now, 
sure." 

The excitement did not die down until almost two 
o'clock the following morning, but the spirit of 
cheer and good feeling among the men over the 



THE FIFTH OF APRIL, 1917 195 

entry of the United States into the war continued 
and remained. 

It was now Canada and the United States of 
America who were to stand as one — to fight as one, 
and if need be, to fall as one. Good people back 
home, back up this feeling to the utmost. Do not 
disappoint the brave boys from Canada, and en- 
courage your own brave sons. This caution and 
advice is not necessary I am sure, but I cannot help 
expressing it however. 

France perhaps needed you at this time, and per- 
haps England needed you also, but the men of no 
country gave you a greater welcome than did the 
Canadians on that fifth day of April, 1917. 

On the next day, I was further honored and 
pleased by being promoted to the rank of second 
sergeant in the Old Black troop. 

From that April until the next August, we were 
in the fighting lines around St. Quentin. We fought 
the Huns here, we captured them and we raided 
their trenches. During this time we experienced 
every phase of the life of a soldier. To recount all 
of which would take more time and space than I 
feel warrants within the scope of one volume. 

I am going however to try and give a picture of 
one of the raids made by the Canadian brigade unde- 
the command of that great and noble gentleman ana 
soldier, General Seeley, in front of St. Quentin dur- 
ing July, 1917. 



CHAPTER XXV 

IMPRESSIONS OF A RAID ON THE 
GENMAN TRENCHES 




HE NIGHT of which I shall relate was 
still. Not a gun was heard, but from 
our trenches could be seen figure after 
figure crawl out into the open, and there 
lie down, until there were perhaps one 
hundred men in like position. 
Early that evening a torpedo party had gone forth 
to blow a gap in the German wire at a given signal. 
At almost one o'clock in the morning, a time when 
man's vitality is at the lowest ebb, the Heavens 
seemed suddenly to be shaken by the shock of artil- 
lery fire. One long continuous roar it was, and then 
we were on our way to the German front line. 

Our torpedo party had performed its work well, 
as three gaps had been made in the wire. We were 
detailed into three separate parties, one directed to 
attack the center, one the left and the other the 
right. 

(196) 



RAID ON THE GERMAN TRENCHES 197 

Amid the roar of bursting shells and the rattle 
of machine gun bullets, we made our way through 
the enemy wire and to the Germans — not in the 
mad rush as often pictured in going over the top, 
but at a regulation pace of four miles an hour. 
Everything worked with clock-like regularity. At 
a given signal the barrage lifted and played on the 
Germans' second line of defense. Soon we were in 
their front line without meeting much resistance. 
Men were bayoneted where they stood, the dugouts 
bombed and then destroyed, sheets of flame imme- 
diately lighting up the entire ghastly scene. 

With a wild yell we then passed on to the next 
line, killing, with no thought of quarter. We gave 
and we took men. 

The enemy were completely surprised. We left 
our trenches at twelve, midnight, attacked and also 
raided the Huns, destroyed trenches, captured ma- 
chine guns, destroyed three trench mortars, killed 
a large number and brought with us on our return 
a commanding officer, a colonel of the Thirteenth 
Hanoverian regiment, and about thirty prisoners and 
returned across No Man's land singing, to our own 
trenches at two A. M. 

Strange to say we accomplished all this with but 
three casualties, one killed and two wounded, and 
this success was largely due to the deadly effect on 
the enemy of our artillery barrage, plus the spirit 

27 



198 RAID ON THE GERMAN TRENCHES 

and dash displayed by each man in that raid, or as 
the soldier calls it, a "stunt." 

We had no difficulty in finding our way back to 
our own line. I accompanied Major Timmins, who 
had personally conducted the squadron in the raid. 
The Fort Garry Horse and Lord Strathcona Horse 
had been somewhat more successful than we, in that 
they had taken only a few prisoners a piece, and 
had had no casualty. They had killed and put out 
of action almost two companies of the Bavarians, 
which accounted for the few prisoners they brought 
back. 

On the whole, the raid I have attempted to de- 
scribe, of the Canadian cavalry brigade, stands to- 
day, officially, as one of the most daring raids of the 
war. 

While going across No Man's land Major Timmis 
and I witnessed a novel and amusing sight. A great 
big fellow, a private in the Fort Garry Horse, was 
conducting two German prisoners back to our lines, 
when a German who had been lying in a shell hole 
during the action, suddenly arose and took to his 
heels, making straight back to his own lines. The 
Fort Garry chap without a moment's hesitation 
handed his rifle to one of the German prisoners in 
his custody and said, "Hold that a minute, you little 
son of a gun," and started after the fleeing Hun, 
overtaking and catching him returned with him by 



RAID ON THE GERMAN TRENCHES 199 

the scruff of the neck to where his other two pris- 
oners were standing. This was all done so quickly 
you can hardly wonder at our own amazement, and 
our admiration as well, for the big private. The 
captor then took charge of his rifle and giving his 
latest captive a kick (as we say in the bottom of 
his pants), proceeded on his way to our lines, quite 
as unconcerned as though it were an every day 
occupation with him to corral and bring „back Ger- 
mans. The whole thing was so amusing that we 
laughed a long time over the incident. We told the 
story when we got back, and it was repeated more 
than once, never loosing any detail in the telling. 

The raid, of course was prearranged, and accord- 
ingly well thought out. Each man knew exactly 
where he was going and what he had to do, for 
everything had been in a way rehearsed. All it re- 
quired was vigor and coolness on the part of the 
men. 

All credit for this daring raid and its success was 
due to Colonel Patterson of the Fort Garry Horse, 
who planned it and carried it out. He was after- 
wards decorated by the king with the Distinguished 
Service Order and Mr. Price of our squadron at- 
tained another bar to his Military Cross. 

A number of our men throughout the brigade 
also received medals for personal bravery and devo- 
tion to duty in facing the enemy in this raid. 



200 RAID ON THE GERMAN TRENCHES 

It is but a few details of the trench raid I have 
related here, principally to remind the reader that 
the cavalry does not long remain idle. If it is not 
in the saddle fighting the Hun, then it is fighting 
him from and in the trenches. 




CHAPTER XXVI 

A VISIT TO PARIS 

JNCE reaching France it had been my 
desire to visit and see something of 
Paris and its life. Late in the summer 
of 1917, I applied for leave from my 
regiment that I might make the trip. 
Nearly every British soldier was anxious 
to get back to Blighty at the first opportunity and 
accordingly my application for the purpose of visit- 
ing Paris was received with something of surprise. 
"So you intend to take your leave in Paris, sar- 
geant?" 

"Yes, sir," I replied, "I have no relatives in Eng- 
land, so I would like to visit Paris." 

One bright morning in September, I was advised 
that my request had been granted for a leave in 
Paris. My arrangements were soon made, and on 
September 28th I boarded a fussy little train at 
Saint Pol. 

As the train left the station I had the carriage 
to myself and congratulated myself on the fact that 
I was to enjoy the trip in quiet and free from the 

(201) 



202 A VISIT TO PARIS 

naturally inquisitive traveler. The train had not 
gone beyond perhaps two, or three stations, when 
my door was opened by a guard, and a little French 
woman with two children entered. Mentally I cursed 
the luck, but thought I might yet be left alone to 
interest myself in the paper I was reading and in 
the passing scenery. I misjudged the temperament 
of my co-traveler, however, for I was not permitted 
to dwell long on either paper or scenery. She had 
no sooner placed her baggage and settled herself 
and children, than she directed her attention to me, 
and opened her conversation with the salutation, 
"Good day soldier." I nodded in reply. 

"Where are you going and where are you from?" 
she inquired. 

I tried to answer her questions in French to the 
best of my ability. Then she wanted to know if 
I were an Englishman or a Canadian. I shook my 
head. She seemed puzzled at this and so to satisfy 
her curiosity and set her mind at ease, as to my 
nationality, I said to her, "I am an American sub- 
ject, but a Canadian soldier." I had no sooner 
uttered the word American, than she went into rap- 
tures and exclaimed, "Oh La Bon American," and 
immediately jumped up and threw her arms around 
my neck and kissed me on bc£h cheeks. 

After this assault she turned her attention to the 
two children, and told them that right in their car- 
riage was a real American, and that they must kiss 



A VISIT TO PARIS 203 

him at once. For the first time in my life I was 
sorry that I was an American, for I was imme- 
diately pounced upon by the children, who obeyed 
their mother's command to the letter, and before I 
could ward off the attack, was kissed by the two 
little mouths that had been industriously sucking 
candy from the time they entered the carriage. 
There I was, locked in a compartment of a French 
railway carriage, unprotected and unable to escape 
until the train should come to a stop and its door 
be thrown open by the guard, so what could I do 
but surrender with the best possible grace to the 
attack from the youngsters. 

I trust I have not left the impression that I dis- 
like children, or am adverse to being kissed by them, 
but I do not choose to be made a fuss over by 
strangers or little girls with sticky mouths and 
hands. More than that I feared for the condition 
of the nice new uniform I had managed to secure 
for my visit to gay Paris. 

One ordeal I had was passed, fortunately, but I 
could not stop the madam from talking, and so I 
finally resolved to make the most of it and be as 
agreeable as possible in this connection as well. I 
was obliged to answer every manner of question 
about the United States, and while it was not neces- 
sary to secure her good opinion of the Americans, 
yet I volunteered the opinion that Uncle Sam would 
soon rid her beautiful France of the hated Hun. I 



204 A VISIT TO PARIS 

saw at once that I had talked too much, for at this 
information she again went into raptures, and for 
a moment I was sure I was about to be kissed again 
by herself and her offspring. So I immediately 
decided to employ a little strategy to ward off an- 
other possible right and left (cheek) attack, and 
told the madame that I had unfortunately contracted 
cancer of the throat, and was then on my way to 
Paris for an operation. 

Cancer, my what wonders that word wrought 
upon her mind. She now began to sympathize with 
me, telling me how sorry she was for me, in such 
a solemn and injured tone that I felt she was think- 
ing of herself and children as well, and wondering 
if they and herself had exposed themselves to the 
disease. At that thought I really felt guilty, in 
employing such a lie for self preservation, but it 
had the desired effect for it kept the madame and 
her small family to the opposite side of the carriage 
until we reached Amiens. 

My conscience would not permit me to leave the 
train without confessing the falsehood and so I told 
the madam, when I felt it safe to do so, that I was 
going to Paris not for an operation but to have a 
gay time, and that when I told her the cancer story 
I was lying. She thereupon exclaimed "Vouse tres 
mechant, mon Ami" (You are a very wicked sol- 
dier to lie to me so). While her opinion of me had 



A VISIT TO PARIS 205 

fallen, yet I could see that she was greatly relieved 
concerning herself and children. We had now 
reached Amiens, where I was obliged to change 
cars. I stepped out of the carriage and soon lost 
myself in the crowd at the station. 

My journey from Amiens to Paris was pleasant 
and uneventful. I arrived at the Gare du Nord in 
Paris at seven-twenty that evening. A wonderful 
sight the station presented to me, brilliantly lighted 
and filled with well dressed women and soldiers in 
the uniform of every allied nation. I thought to 
myself if the station presents such an attractive 
appearance what must the boulevards be. 

I was in no particular hurry and so thought I 
would amuse myself for a time watching the people 
in and about the station. The first sight that met 
my eyes and interested me was two men, in the 
uniform of the French army, father and son, I 
judged, grasp each other by the hand and then 
each kissed the other on both cheeks. This custom, 
because of my small knowledge of French ways, 
struck me as quite foolish. 

I soon felt somewhat alone in that gay chatting 
throng since every one there seemed to know some 
one else, and I also felt that I looked rather foolish 
as I stood or wandered around, gazing at the people 
and the surroundings. The crowd gradually dis- 

28 



206 A VISIT TO PARIS 

persed and I then looked about to find my way out 
to the street. 

I had no sooner stepped out of the station than 
a voice asked me, in broken English, where I was 
going. I turned and beheld my inquisitor 'to be 
a woman, elegantly dressed and carrying a small 
poodle in her arms. I looked at her a moment in 
wonderment, then, cautiously backed away from her 
a step and replied, "I am going home. ,, 

"You go home? For why you go home?" she 
asked, and then continued, "I too go home with you, 
is it not?" I was taken so completely by surprise 
at this proposition, coming so soon upon my arrival 
in this city noted for its gaiety, I hastily replied, 
"It is not," and took to my heels. 

"Holy smoke," I thought to myself, I guess I am 
going to be sorry for ever having come to Paris 
alone. The next thing I did was to feel in my 
pocket to see if my pocketbook was still there, and 
I confess I was really surprised, as well as relieved, 
to find I still possessed it. 

I concluded by this time that I had better not 
linger about Paris long alone. I had the address 
of a dear old lady whom I had met while we were 
in Ault in 1916, Madam Le Gentile. She became 
interested in me and had extended me an invitation 
to visit her home, and really had insisted that I 
should do so, if I ever came to Paris. She said she 
wished very much to have me meet her husband 



A VISIT TO PARIS 207 

and her daughter, Marcella. She had shown me a 
picture of her daughter and I was particularly 
anxious to make their acquaintance in consequence. 

I called a taxi and gave directions to take me to 
140 Rue De Bellville, where my good friend lived. 
I climbed in but the machine did not move. I asked 
the chauffeur why he did not turn on the juice and 
move. I was informed that he was waiting for 
another passenger before going. Well, I thought, 
this is some place, not so fast in some respects any- 
way. 

After a wait of about five minutes a French sol- 
dier came along, somewhat under the influence of 
drink, and decided he would ride. It happened he 
was going up Rue de Bellville also, so in that respect 
things were satisfactory and we started. On the 
way my fellow passenger insisted upon singing and 
calling me his "Bon Comrade." He inquired whether 
or not I spoke French and when I shook my head 
in the negative he seemed sorry. He then offered 
me his water bottle and, just to show him I was 
his "Bon Comrade," I drank with him. 

I was not sorry when the car stopped at my num- 
ber, for I felt I was soon to be among friends. It 
was exactly nine P. M. when I presented myself at 
Madam Le Gentile's house. A son returning from 
the front could not have received a more tender or 
cordial reception than was given me. First I was 
introduced to the husband and kissed by him, then 



208 A VISIT TO PARIS 

I was presented to the daughter and, "Oh joy," 
kissed by her — on both cheeks, I still insist a foolish 
custom — in some cases. 

Who wouldn't come to France and fight when it 
means such hospitality and greeting from the French 
people, especially from the good looking grown up, 
female members of the family. My advice to you 
boys back in the States and Canada is — if you like 
to be kissed — on both cheeks — don't wait to be 
drafted but volunteer and hurry along. 

My leave in Paris was filled with interest and 
amusement. I had the pleasure of witnessing the 
reception accorded the boys of the Sixteenth regi- 
ment, U. S. A. Oh! the joy and the hope these big 
manly fellows of Uncle Sam's army brought to the 
French people, and how their spirits were aroused 
anew at the sight. A new bond of unity seemed 
formed at their entry into the war. Vie La Amer- 
ica" was on the lips of every Parisian and may they 
always say it with no regret. 

I told you in a previous chapter of the feeling 
and conduct of the Canadians on that fifth day of 
April in 1917, and now what faith and hope the 
sight of these American soldiers on French soil 
brought to poor bleeding France. In her hour of 
darkness she knew the services of her loved Lafay- 
ette for the cause of American liberty, had not been 
forgotten and she looked to the United States to 
come to her assistance in ridding her of the cruel 



A VISIT TO PARIS 209 

and hated Hun, and thank God she has not been 
disappointed. 

In the company of Mile. Le Gentile, I had the 
pleasure of visiting all of the places of interest in 
Paris. One afternoon as we started out on pleasure 
bent, she demanded of me that I introduce her to 
an American soldier and so I made up my mind 
that I would stop the first Sammy I met and intro- 
duce him to her. We had not gone far when I saw 
swinging down the boulevard, not one, but three 
Sammies and thinking there would be safety in 
numbers, I stopped them and informed them of the 
young lady's desire. 

"Sure thing, you know," they responded. They 
gave me their names and I introduced them inform- 
ally as though I had known them all my life, saying, 
"Mile. Le Gentile permit me to introduce you to 
Serg. Bever, Sixteenth regiment of New York; Cor- 
poral Daly and Corporal Scott." This ceremony 
over we all adjourned to a near cafe and there re- 
freshed ourselves with a cooling drink (I have for- 
gotten the name), in quite an American fashion. 

Mile. Le Gentile was delighted to know and be 
in the company of my American friends, and told 
me repeatedly (in French of course) , that she loved 
to hear the big Americans talk and laugh, though 
she could not understand a word they said. 

Such is an example of the feeling and spirit of 
the French people toward the American soldiers in 



210 A VISIT TO PARIS 

the fall of 1917. They were proud of the fact that 
soldiers of the United States were walking the 
streets of their beautiful city. 

It was a common sight to see sitting in the cafes 
representatives of each allied nation. There were 
the French officers in their red trousers and blue 
jackets, the big Russian officers in full war dress, 
little Portuguese officers in blue; here and there a 
Belgian officer in kahki with red trimmings and 
then the officers and men of the two great nations 
in khaki, those of the British empire and of the 
United States, each and all mingling and fraterniz- 
ing together as one great family, each telling a story 
of recent battles and of the losses and victories. It 
was surely a most inspiring sight and a wonderful 
example of democratic spirit and action. It has 
been feared that the Huns might some day take 
Paris — no, never. 

Mile, and I, after a time excused ourselves and 
left Sergt. Bever and his comrades, but not before 
I had promised the sergeant that I would pay him 
a visit at his hotel the next day. 

All the way home the little French miss was in 
raptures over her adventure. She kept singing the 
praises of the American soldiers she had met, say- 
ing, "Oh! La Bon Americans." She was, however, 
only voicing the sentiment of all the people of her 
country. The whole world knows today how well 
General Pershing's troops were received and how 



A VISIT TO PARIS 211 

well they deserved the praise and gratitude of 
France and the other allied countries. 

I kept my appointment the following morning 
with Sergeant Bever and at the same time had the 
honor of meeting Captain Graves. 

While there, in the Hotel St. Anne, I had my first 
glimpse of anything that looked like home, and it 
was in the shape of American cigarettes and to- 
bacco, such as Camel, Bull Durham and Duke's Mix- 
ture. There was also an American barber, a shoe- 
shine parlor, a soda fountain and on my way down 
stairs I passed two colored soldiers amusing them- 
selves in their favorite game, shooting crap. 

On the following day my leave would expire, so 
on leaving my new friends I went immediately back 
to Rue de Bellville to get my kit in order and to 
thank the good madame for her hospitality and for 
all the kindness and interest in my behalf, which 
she had shown since I had been her guest. 

She told me that she was only too glad to show 
in this way her feeling toward and appreciation for 
one of the defenders of her dear France. I was 
deeply touched by those sentiments and felt very 
proud to be called one of the defenders of dear 
France. 

Today as I write my thoughts are of "dear 
France," our sister republic, and I thank God that 
I have been spared and will be able to return and 
"Carry on as a soldier, a defender of France." 
May I be permitted to live to see the hated Hun 



212 A VISIT TO PARIS 

driven out of France and Belgium, and so punished 
and crushed that he may never presume to again 
raise his serpent head to strike at such a just and 
liberty loving people. Such is my prayer. 

When that day comes I hope I may still live long 
enough to again visit Madame Le Gentile and be 
able to tell her that I am glad her confidence in the 
"defenders of dear France" was not misplaced, and 
to express also my wish that she might live long 
to enjoy the blessings of a peaceful and happy 
France. 

I left Paris the next day to join my regiment, 
having spent seven days, the happiest since coming 
to France. Monsieur, Madame and Madamoiselle 
came to the Gard de Nord to see me off and I felt 
that everyone about were looking when each kissed 
me again — on both cheeks. But after all what did 
I care, for I felt more like a son than an acquaint- 
ance, so much like a son had they treated me during 
my visit with them and now at parting as well. 

My trip back was uneventful, beyond the fact 
that it took me exactly ten days to find my regi- 
ment, which had moved during my leave and when 
I did it was in Belgium at a place called Poperinghe, 
where the Canadians thrilled the world in the tak- 
ing of Passendale. 




CHAPTER XXVII 

CANADIAN CAVALRY AT THE 
BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 

HE DAY had arrived. The day we had 
been drinking and toasting to, "Z" day. 
The day we had been preparing for for 
months. Oh! what a thrill went 
throug the whole brigade, but I can only 
write here of the feelings of my own 
regiment. The first notice that we received was, that 
"Z" day would arrive on the morrow, and every man 
in the regiment knew exactly what that day meant. 
It simply meant that on that day, we, the British 
would make a great surprise attack on the enemy, 
and that all branches of the service would be used 
in such weight of numbers that it would not only 
assure success of the venture, but also gain some 
very important positions. 

Perhaps I should explain (with your permission, 
Mr. Censor) , what I mean by "Z" day. It was sim- 
ply that each day previous to this battle was known 
by a letter, A, B, C, D, etc., no day following in 
natural sequence and sometimes the same letter 
being repeated. 

29 (213) 



214 THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 

Each night orders were issued from headquarters 
something like this — "Tomorrow will be 'L' day," 
or "Tomorrow will be *C day," and so on during the 
days. 

While we were waiting for "Z" day to arrive we 
were rehearsing our attacks. Each regiment knew 
exactly what its duties would be and likewise each 
squadron had its orders just what to do when the 
moment came. For instance, when a certain village 
would be captured by the infantry or the tanks, a 
message was to be flashed back to the cavalry that 
the time for action had come. Each regiment was 
then to take up its respective position on the line of 
attack and carry out exactly what it had been re- 
hearsing for months back. 

My troop, the Black troop, was detailed as the 
demoliation party to blow up at a given time, a 
certain bridge, a certain crossroads and a section 
of railroad. Each troop having their own instruc- 
tions to carry out, everything must be done as 
scheduled if the attack was to be a success. 

We practiced at times before "Z" day, at blowing 
up bridges, each man being detailed to his own part 
in the work. Some would carry slabs of dry cotton, 
others the detonaters, while others had the prim- 
ers and fuses. It was really amusing to see how 
careless the men were with all of those high explo- 
sives. One chap, for instance, was carrying a slab 
of guncotton inside of his shirt and four detoniers 



THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 215 

in his pants pockets, merely wrapped in paper and 
packed in an ordinary cigarette box. Another would 
carry them in his hat, and all manner of places 
about his person and saddlery in fact was used to 
carry those dangerous articles. They were, in other 
words, carried any place where we could get at them 
quickly when the moment for action arrived. 

'Troop sergeants wanted at regimental headquar- 
ters at once," announced an orderly who came into 
our mess with rain dripping off his oilskin. We 
had previously been discussing the attack that was 
about to take place. The boys had been chaffing 
me somewhat about my duties as the demoliation 
sergeant. They volunteered all kinds of ridiculous 
advice, to which I had listened for almost half an 
hour and when the orderly came with the message, 
I was beginning to lose my temper. 

We, who were included in the order at once pro- 
ceeded to headquarters where we were greeted by 
Major Timmins, and received our orders. We were 
asked by the major if we had our maps with us, to 
which we replied in the affirmative. He then in- 
formed us that we would leave Tincourt, at eleven 
o'clock that night and move up under cover of dark- 
ness and take a position on the high slopes of Finn. 
After receiving our orders and being sure we un- 
derstood every detail of the plan contemplated to 
be carried out, we rejoined our troops and issued 
instructipns to the men to the effect that we would 



216 THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 

leave that night at eleven P. M. At once prepara- 
tions were under way to move. Among other things 
each man looked to see that his rifle, ammunition 
and "iron rations" were in plenty and in order. Red 
flares were issued to each troop, and green flares 
to the mashine gun crews. Before leaving, most of 
the men found time to write hurried letters to the 
folks at home. 

Promptly at eleven P. M. we were mounted and 
ready to move. The night was dark and no lights 
were showing except as a man would occasionally 
flash an electric torch to see that everything was in 
proper order around and about his horse and equip- 
ment. 

At eleven-thirty we were on our way. The night 
was so dark that one could not see the man in front 
of him, and neither could anything be heard but the 
metallic ring of the horses' hoofs upon the cobbled 
road. I rode with Lieutenant Gwyne at the head 
of our troop and occasionally we would speak of 
and discuss, in an undertone, the part we were de- 
tailed to participate in, in the great attack that was 
about to be launched. 

When we reached Finn, Mr. Gwyne was to leave 
the troop and proceed mounted to the front line 
of attack with two mounted orderlies and there go 
over with the tanks, when the attack began. 

When Mr. Gwyn left, the responsibility of lead- 
ing the troop would rest upon my shoulders. I 



THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 217 

realized the responsibility and naturally the thought 
went through my mind, how will I act when the 
critical moment arrives, and my courage and knowl- 
edge is put to the test. I had confidence in my men 
and knew them to be fighters and not afraid of 
anything living, and that they would follow the "old 
man" anywhere. I knew them and they knew me, 
and I prayed that I should not fail them, but should 
make good. I was proud of my men that night, 
and I was destined to think still more of them before 
the work in that great battle of Cambrai was fin- 
ished. 

As we rode that night in the rain and cold we 
had nothing to look forward to beyond the carnage 
of war and its results. With this prospect were we 
miserable? I reply no. We we happy? To this I 
reply yes, more than happy for we were enthu- 
siastic and quite carried away with the prospect of 
the excitement that was to come with the work 
before us. We were wet and cold, but this we did 
not mind for we had been out of action for over two 
months and were perfectly healthy and strong, and 
trained to the minute, I assure you. 

While we were expecting to see horrible and 
ghastly sights and to meet with casualties, we were 
also expecting to see and do great things in the 
part we were to take in the oncoming battle. Our 
expectations were fulfilled to the letter, and I shall 
now attempt to relate just exactly what I saw, and 



218 THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 

what our troop did at the first battle of Cambrai 
in November, 1917, and while I shall at times draw 
a ghastly picture and place on paper things almost 
unbelievable to one who was not there, I assure you 
that all I shall relate will be the truth, without the 
use of high or flaunting words to hide any of the 
horrors witnessed by us at the battle of Cambrai. 

At about three o'clock the following morning, the 
entire brigade reached a place called Finn, where 
we halted and the men dismounted. The attack 
was planned to start at four A. M., to the minute, 
so we did not unsaddle our horses but fed them 
merely and meantime partook of some refreshments 
and got what little rest we could. At three-thirty, 
we were joined by a squadron of the Scotch Grays 
which had been detailed for a special mission, and 
which was to accompany the Canadian cavalry 
brigade. 

What a sight was presented to our view that 
morning — commotion, activity and excitement be- 
yond description. Cavalry everywhere, roads filled 
with transports, wire cages being hurriedly erected 
for the use of German prisoners, engineers bringing 
up supplies over the light railroads, and while I said 
everything seemed to be in confusion, yet it might 
be said to have been quite orderly confusion and 
excitement, for everything moved with the regu- 
larity of clockwork. 



THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI 219 

At three-forty-five A. M., Mr. Gwyne left us ac- 
companied by Privates Gordon and Bartlett, to pro- 
ceed up to the front. In the plan, as detailed to us, 
the whole brigade movements were to depend upon 
Mr. Gwyne and his orderly. It was to be up to him 
to send messages back that the first, second and 
third line of trenches had been taken when accom- 
plished. It was understood when the first line had 
fallen that Private Gordon would be sent back. 
When the second line had fallen, it would be Private 
Bartlett who would return, and when the third line 
fell Mr. Gwyne himself would return and then 
would come our part in the war game. 

As Mr. Gwyne left us, I bid him good-bye and 
Godspeed. 




CHAPTER XXVIII 

THE FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 

T FOUR o'clock, to the minute, the bom- 
bardment commenced. First a single 
gun was heard and that was gradually 
followed by gun after gun until the 
valley seemed to be filled with the sound 
of guns and the explosion of shell and 
the echo after echo therefrom. It was as if all the 
elements of nature, of sky and cloud, had been 
turned loose — just one long continuous roar of thun- 
der increasing in intensity it seemed every moment, 
and with it all one could hardly hear himself speak. 
The flash of the projectiles as they left the muzzles 
of the guns would light up the whole landscape in 
the gray dismal dawn of that morning. 

A fleet of aeroplanes now passed overhead — great 
birds they appeared to be up there in the sky watch- 
ing and signalling the direction and the effect of 
the bursting shells. Occasionally a little scout plane 
would be seen to leave the fleet and dash away 
ahead, and then circling about for a time would come 
straight back to where we, the cavalry, were wait- 

(220) 



FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 221 

ing and drop a message which would be instantly- 
picked up by one of the men and rushed off to head- 
quarters. 

It was on the receipt of one of these messages 
that we were ordered to mount and advance. We 
proceeded aways and finally halted on a high piece 
of ground overlooking the German trenches, and 
from there what a sight we beheld. 

Bursting overhead in the German trenches were 
shells of all calibres and as each shell struck we 
could see the earth flying as though some great ex- 
plosion had caused the earth to rise up. Going 
across No Man's Land was seen a fleet of tanks 
all in orderly line. What a great display and what 
a sight, and yet no infantry was in sight. 

The tanks plowed ahead until they came to Ger- 
man wire, when they all seemed to stop and it was 
here at this point and during such apparent halt 
in their movement that the "flagship," or tank, 
flashed back that famous signal, "Britain expects 
that this day every tank will do its damdest." At 
that the fight commenced and right through the 
wire, the tanks went. The barrage now lifted and 
the shells began dropping away on the Germans' 
second line of defense and with that the tanks 
opened fire with their machine guns killing such 
Germans as had survived the bombardment, and 



30 



222 FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 

then continued on their way to the second line of 
defense. 

Next a great roar was heard and instantly from 
the front line of trenches poured our infantry and 
in a long extended line commenced the journey 
across No Man's Land at a perfectly normal gait 
and the regulation pace of four miles an hour. 

Oh what a wonderful sight it was with the shells 
bursting over their heads and around and in front 
of the infantrymen as they continued on. Occa- 
sionally a figure would drop, but the line seemed 
never to grow smaller or to waver and just con- 
tinued on. 

The first line was followed by another line of in- 
fantry in the same extended order. 

As we watched we saw coming across the open 
and straight toward us a horseman riding low and 
getting every bit of speed possible out of his horse. 
When but a few yards from where we were the 
horse seemed to stagger and then fell upon its knees 
but instantly regained its feet and continued on in 
its mad race for a short distance when its pace 
gradually slacked and finally when about fifty yards 
from us dropped dead. 

The rider jumped to his feet and came toward 
us. It was private Gordon with the first message 
to the effect that the Germans' first line had been 
taken. Private Gordon, when he reached us, was 
utterly exhausted and came near fainting. We 



FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 223 

gave him a drink and sent him to the rear where 
it was found he had received a badly sprained back 
when his horse dropped dead. 

We felt that our time for action was close at hand. 
It had been raining for a time but had ceased now 
and the sun was trying hard to penetrate the over- 
hanging clouds and smoke. We were chilled almost 
to the marrow but kept our blood circulating while 
waiting by dancing up and down. 

Soon Private Bartlett came riding back with the 
second message which informed us that the second 
line had fallen into our hands, and with this in- 
formation we expected every moment to attack and 
began to get ready for our dash across the open, 
but were kept waiting, however, until almost noon 
before we received orders to move. 

All the trenches had been captured by this time 
and we were ordered to ride first to and capture 
the village of M , and then on to our ob- 
jective, the capture of the town of Cambria. With 
a yell we swung into the saddles and soon the entire 
brigade was on the move, with the Fort Garry Horse 
leading, and then the Lord Strathcona Horse and 
next the Royal Canadian Dragoons. Bridges had 
been thrown across the captured trenches by the 
Indian cavalry brigade over which to pass on and 
into No Man's Land. 

We commenced the attack at exactly one P. M. 
What a sight greeted our eyes as we rode across 



224 FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 

No Man's Land. Dead, horrible dead, bodies of the 
Germans who had been killed as they tried to es- 
cape. Here and there an upturned tank which had 
been struck and pounded to pieces by the heavy 
guns of the enemy. Aeroplanes that had been shot 
down, many of them with their nose driven in the 
ground and tail or propeller sticking up in the air. 
Here and there groups of prisoners standing wait- 
ing to be taken back, all with a look of surprise on 
their faces. In one group we saw I should judge 
there were almost one thousand soldiers. 

We passed groups of American engineers already 
on the ground busy with the construction of a light 
railroad, but not too busy to cease their labor long 
enough to take off their hats and cheer us on our 
way. The soldier is never too busy while at work 
or play, or even in the midst of action, to cheer and 
encourage his comrades on the way to duty. 

In time we are free of the trenches and the open 
country lies before us. We can see the canal with 
the village of M , our first objective, nest- 
ling amongst the trees. Shortly we enter and ride 
toward it through a sunken road and here are met 
with heavy shell fire. Now and then a horse goes 
down, and a man screams in agony and topples from 
his saddle and is left behind to be attended by the 
stretcher bearers of the Red Cross who follow on. 

We were here compelled to ride over the dead 
bodies of the Germans who had been killed in their 



FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 225 

dugouts and in and around that sunken road leading 
toM . 

As we neared the village we came upon a stream 
of civilians, mostly women and children and old men, 
fleeing from their homes and carrying all their 
worldly possessions on their backs or in baby car- 
riages or any other contrivance they were able to 
get hold of. What a pittiful sight they presented, 
covered with mud and with that hunted look on 
their faces that you see on animals when trapped. 
Occasionally a shell would explode in the road and 
some poor woman, man or child would crumple up 
and his or her troubles end there. As we proceeded 
we found the road strewn with dead civilians and 
soldiers lying just where and as they had fallen, 
some with a smile on their face and others with a 
horrible expression of fear or agony in their staring 
eyes. Some, there may be who will say that war 
is a necessity and that such things are to be. Per- 
haps so, but how can God permit men to kill and 
destroy the poor innocent women and children? 
That is more than we can understand. 

The Germans seeing they could not stay our ad- 
vance began evacuating the village, but not without 
first destroying as much property as possible and 
killing every living thing possible. The Fort Garry 
Horse soon entered the village followed by the Lord 
Strathcona Horse, and in time, fortunately, to save 
the lives of hundreds of the civilian population who 



226 FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 

had not been able to get out, and as well, in a meas- 
ure, avenged for the death of the many we had 
passed on that sunken road, for no German soldier 
found in that village was permitted to escape alive. 

We, of the Royal Canadian Dragoons, were ordered 
to halt before crossing the canal and there assist 
in the relief of the refugees. The time was now 
five P. M. The attack thus far had been successful, 
and we waited here for orders to push on to Cam- 
bria, seven kilometers away. 

"B" squadron of the Fort Garry Horse crossed 
the bridge at five-thirty P. M., as the advance guard 
to the whole brigade. They had no sooner crossed 
than a great tank commenced to lumber across the 
same bridge. When in the center the bridge gave 
way with its weight precipitating the tank into the 
water. The bridge was completely destroyed cut- 
ting off, for the time, any possibility of support to 
that gallant squadron. Did they attempt to turn 
back ? No. They rode on and up to the very mouths 
of the enemy's guns, slaying the gunners at their 
posts and destroying the guns, and then on killing 
many Germans and throwing a whole German di- 
vision into utter confusion. 

Oh, what wonderful valor was displayed by that 
small body of cavalry — but one hundred and 
eighteen strong when they crossed the canal, yet 
without thought of fear they charged alone. When 
night fell and they were cut off with no chance of 



FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 227 

support, the officer in charge halted his men and 
prepared for the supreme sacrifice. He issued in- 
structions for the men to turn their horses loose 
and fight their way back as best they could. 

The horses, finding themselves without a rider, 
galloped madly through the darkness into and caus- 
ing havoc and confusion amongst the Germans who 
were now attempting to surround and capture our 
small body of gallant horsemen. 

The charge of the Light Brigade when it charged 

the Russian army at B , has been written 

of and sung by poets. Who will arise and sing the 
praises of that glorious band of heroes who at this 
point charged and dispersed almost a whole division 
of the much vaunted Prussian infantry, destroying 
guns and creating a disastrous moral effect on the 
enemy? Who can describe the bravery displayed 
and the wonderful things accomplished by these 
men in this charge and while fighting with bayonets 
every inch of their way on their return journey on 
foot? 

When I tell you that but one officer and four men 
of the one hundred and eighteen returned, and they 
were wounded, you must and will agree that they 
were supermen, and that those who died did so 
while trying to make the world a cleaner, safer and 
better world for those who live and are yet to live. 
To you who fought so bravely and fell in that 
glorious, yet disastrous charge, let me say here — 



228 FIRST PHASE OF THE BATTLE 

You made for your brigade, for your regiment, and 
for Canada, your country, an undying name, and 
we your comrades, who yet survive, salute you as 
martyrs for a noble cause, and pray that your brave 
souls may rest in peace, and that when the time 
comes, if it shall, when we too must make a like 
sacrifice, that we may go to our death as gloriously 
and as nobly. 

No doubt in the coming years the story of the 
bravery of those strong faithful men will be told 
by writers far more able to sing of their gallantry 
and sacrifice than my poor self, yet they will never 
begin to portray to the mind of their readers the 
feeling that passed through the breasts of every 
man of the whole brigade when he heard the story 
of their glorious sacrifice. 




CHAPTER XXIX 

A NIGHT OF HORROR 

H MY GOD, we are cold ! Can't we move 
away from this hell of shell fire? Can 
we not be permitted to forget that death 
is lurking around us? 

I am afraid to die, yes afraid. I am 
at heart a coward. I long to be away 
from it all. 

Oh reader if you could but place yourself in the 
position we found ourselves that cold, bleak Novem- 
ber night, I know you would have had the same 
feeling of misery and fear. 

You, who have read, know that we left Tincourt 
at eleven-thirty the night previous. We had ridden 
to the battle front with our hearts full of the joy of 
living and a feeling that we were men and able to 
perform a man's part in this awful conflict. Up 
until we reached Finn we had been keyed to a pitch 
of excitement. We had been permitted to watch 
that great display of infernal machinery — the tanks 
— go forward and destroy life. We had witnessed 
the death of many a brave comrade, had seen our 
31 (229) 



230 A NIGHT OF HORROR 

horses paw the air in fear, had witnessed the exodus 

of the poor inhabitants of the village of M , 

and the shells come bursting through the air taking 
toll of life from the poor innocent men, women and 
children. We had seen the dismembered bodies of 
friend and foe alike. 

Then too we had just watched that small band of 
horsemen go across that bridge and fight its way 
to undying glory and fame and were not able to 
assist them, and now we must look forward to an- 
other almost endless night of horror. 

Can you wonder that we were possessed with a 
feeling of depression and fear? Can you wonder 
that we were afraid to die? 

Where is the romance of war when one must wit- 
ness all this and then have to wait? And wait for 
what? We knew not. We only knew we were now 
being held back again. Our nerves were on edge, 
almost to the breaking point, and I, at least, won- 
dered what man was made of to be able to stand 
up against such awful horrors as we had been 
compelled to witness. 

Death seemed to be on every hand, and from it 
there seemed to be no escape. Look where we 
would that dark, dreary night and we would see 
the dim shadow of some dead thing — horse or man 
— and sometimes we knew it to be that of a woman, 
or that the little bundle of dirty rags we saw was 
the body of a dead child. 



A NIGHT OF HORROR 231 

Our prayer was, Oh my God, let us move some- 
where out of this — forward or back — anywhere to 
be in motion and away from this scene, or let us 
fight. But no, that night we could not do either 
and were obliged to remain where we were. 

When we became resigned to our fate, the order 
was obeyed dutifully, notwithstanding our feeling, 
and so each troop of our squadron fastened the 
horses to the lines and settled down for the night. 

To ease the horses' backs one troop at a time 
was permitted to take off saddles for an hour at a 
time, the other troops meantime standing to their 
horses and simply waiting orders. 

We of the Old Black troop felt we must do some- 
thing to overcome, in a way, the feeling of horror 
and misery that came upon us, so, led by Privates 
Higham and Roberts, we commenced to sing. Yes 
sing. The singing was started by these two men. 
They sang "The Old Folks at Home" and "There's 
No Place Like Home," and soon they were joined 
by the other members of the troop, and gradually 
the refrain was taken up by the men all through the 
squadron, and as we sang, miraculously it seemed, 
the shelling gradually ceased. The singing con- 
tinued until about eleven P. M., dying out as grad- 
ually as it had begun. 

When our turn came to unsaddle horses we did 
so in somewhat better spirits, and placing our sad- 



232 A NIGHT OF HORROR 

dies behind the horses threw ourselves down on the 
muddy ground to ease our aching limbs and get 
what little rest was possible. One had to remain 
on watch, however, so Corporal Bartlett took the 
first half hour and I the second, each getting but 
thirty minutes repose. 

When it came my turn for rest I lay down be- 
tween Bowes and James and was about to dose off 
in slumber when a terrific explosion occurred just 
a little to our right. At once Sergeant Sayger's' 
troop, the Second troop, was in an uproar. The 
trouble did not seem to concern the men of our troop 
and so did not particularly interest us, and we were 
about to close our eyes again when right amongst 
our troop exploded four shells. 

My God! Shall I ever forget the scream of the 
wounded horses and men. I instantly jumped to 
my feet and found Corporal Bartlett already en- 
deavoring to quiet the horses, not having left his 
post for a moment. He was immediately assisted 
by Picken and Higham. I could hear a moan here 
and there but in the awful darkness was unable 
to see who had been hit. It was my troop that had 
been hit and I was distracted. It was my duty to 
try and steady the men and so I forced myself to 
speak calmly yet roughly, commanding them to be 
steady. "Steady men, don't get excited." "That's 
right boys, there is no great damage done," I said, 
in my effort to reassure them. 



A NIGHT OF HORROR 233 

My voice seemed to quiet them, but still the ago- 
nizing groans of someone persisted. I demanded, 
"Who is hit?" Someone answered "It's Bigney." 
Another said, "It's someone of the Third troop." 
Then Bowes, who had been lying with me gently 
touched my arm and said, "Sergeant, it's little 
James, your batman, who has been hit. 

My God! James, who had been lying by my side. 
Could it be possible? I went to where he was lying 
and there I found him groaning in his awful agony. 
I spoke to him, gently, and he recognized me, poor 
kid, but he could not suppress his moans, though 
he seemed to try so hard to do so. 

"I can't help it, sergeant. Oh it pains me so," 
he said. I gave him a drink of rum out of my bot- 
tle and it seemed to ease him for a moment. The 
stretcher bearers were busy attending the wounded 
elsewhere at the time and so we could do nothing 
further for him. 

We realized he had been mortally wounded and 
that his young life was ebbing away. Jimmy Lains- 
bury went in seach of a doctor and meantime Hig- 
ham, God bless him, tried his best to cheer the poor 
lad. I too took the suffering boy by the hand and 
told him to be brave and that we were going to take 
him out, where he could get medical help. 

"What's the use, sargeant," he replied, and then 
continued, "I am done for, I know it." Then he 



234 A NIGHT OF HORROR 

said "Good bye, boys. I know the old troop will 
stick it out." 

Lainsbury now returned with a stretcher and I 
gave Higham and he permission to carry James 
out to the nearest dressing station. 

Everything by now was in an uproar. Hurried 
orders were given to saddle up and get out of that 
hell of fire. 

Strange as it may seem, the men silently and 
nobly bent to their tasks and soon saddled their 
horses, encouraged meantime by that patient and 
noble gentleman, Major Timmis, who seemed to be 
everywhere encouraging and cheering his men, as- 
sisted by that other brave man, Mr. Gwyne, who 
had previously joined his troop. 

We were soon leading such horses as were left 
back a short distance to better cover and safety, 
and there spent the balance of the night without 
further casualties. 




CHAPTER XXX 

COMING OF DAWN 

GAIN we halt not far from our original 
position but this time screened and 
slightly protected by a low lying range 
of hills. 

It was about one A. M. when we 
were settled again, but we could not 
sleep and our prayer was for dawn— dawn that 
would chase away the awful blackness, 
were settled again, but we could not sleep and our 
prayer was for dawn — dawn that would chase away 
the awful blackness. 

Men began throwing themselves down anywhere 
utterly exhausted, but wherever they lay it was 
in filthy, slimy mud with an awful stench. The 
cold too was intense and we had no way of warming 
ourselves nor of keeping warm, for we could not 
light fires owing to the nearness of the enemy and 
the fact that any light would attract its attention 
and cause us to be shelled again. 

We therefore simply lay down and waited for 
dawn. How I longed to sleep and forget, but sleep 
was impossible. 

(235) 



28C COMING OF DAWN 

I was wet and cold, my bones were stiff and sore, 
muscles cramped, and to stand or walk around was 
agony. My comrades were all in the same condi- 
tion, and some worse even for they were suffering 
from slight wounds and bruises as well. 

I could not see, but I knew during the shelling 
I had been hit on the right leg for I suffered a 
slight pain and could feel the congealed blood on my 
leg, but I could not think of leaving. I wished I 
might use that as a reasonable excuse to retire. I 
had seen a doctor struck by a piece of .shell on his 
hand and still carry on his duties, and at the recol- 
lection of that I felt ashamed for almost giving way 
to the desire to go back for such a slight wound 
as I must have received. Nobody would have been 
the wiser, I thought to myself, when thinking I 
might give up, and then the thought came, no, per- 
haps nobody but myself and my conscience. I had 
but to look to my right and my left to see my com- 
rades all manfully and bravely playing the game 
without a murmur, and seeing them I could not 
give up. 

All night long, and far into the awakening dawn, 
troops were coming and going, and wounded men 
being carried out. Oh the untiring devotion of 
those stretcher bearers. 

Lainsbury and Higham return about four A. M. 
from their trip out with poor little James. They 
came straight to where I was sitting, and Higham, 



COMING OF DAWN 237 

poor old Higham, I knew what message he had 
and how he felt — James was his friend, his pal, in 
fact — when with his head bowed he came toward 
me, and with a choked voice said, 'The kid went 
west twenty minutes after we reached the dressing 
station." That was all. 

What emotions and sorrow the message awoke in 
my breast. True I had seen many die and others 
go that day, but no such unexplainable feeling of 
sadness had come over me as now at the loss of one 
so near and dear to me as my faithful little James. 
I too, in my melancholy mind, wondered how soon 
it would be before my time came to give up my life 
as I had seen so many already do. 

The awful blackness was beginning to break now 
and the dim shadows of men and horses became 
gradually clearer and clearer. The dawn came, but 
with daylight hardly a figure stirred. All were 
exhausted and some had fallen asleep amidst the 
awful conditions. We who were awake had to 
awaken the sleeping and arouse most of the others 
from an apparent stupor. 

As usual Major Timmis was about, and with a 
look of sadness on his face I saw him going about 
from troop to troop rousing a man here and a man 
there. 

I awakened Corporal Bartlett and he and I went 
around and awakaned and aroused the men of our 
32 



238 COMING OF DAWN 

troop. Some of the poor fellows we found were 
actually frozen to the ground and had to be assisted 
to their feet, and when we did so in many cases 
their uniforms would be torn apart as they arose. 
A ragged, crippled and bedraggled lot of men we 
presented that cold and dreary morning. 

With daylight our spirits began to rise and we 
thought once more of life, something of the joy 
of living arose within us again and so we turned 
our attention to our personal comforts as far as pos- 
sible. A few who were so fortunate as to have any 
food left began to eat, and nearly all made a little 
tea, and all had a few mouthfuls at least, for those 
who had tea shared it with their less fortunate com- 
rades, and right here I want to express my appre- 
ciation and extend my thanks to Sergeant Sayger 
of the Second troop for the "hate" (tea) he made 
and gave me that cold miserable morning. It seemed 
to put new life into me and to stimulate me to fur- 
ther endeavors. 

Tea is the popular stimulant of the soldier on 
duty in France. I desire to include in my story at 
this point, a little description of tea making and 
drinking in France as given me by Sergeant Sayger, 
since his return to Canada. He said — 

"During my two years and eight months' service 
in France I always carried a primus stove and a 
water bottle containing gasoline or coal oil, and if 
possible, tea, sugar and condensed milk, so that I 



COMING OF DAWN 239 

was rarely hard up for a drink of hot tea, or 'hate/ 
as we called it. Thus one of my most valued memo- 
ries of this war is my primus stove or 'hate' pot. 

"I have made tea in the most impossible places — 
for instance, I have made a screen and had a drink 
of hot tea on outpost on a rainy night, but a few 
yards from the enemy, and I have had it on the 
roadside during a half hour's halt. 

"In the Cambria advance I made it in a shell hole 
and covered the top with a waterproof sheet during 
the night when fires of any description were out of 
the question. 

"It is wonderful how everyone gets the craze for 
tea out there. I have known fellows who used to 
turn up their noses at it before the war, become 
regular 'tea grannies' after a few months in France, 
and at every available opportunity were making tea. 
The funny part of tea is, they don't want other peo- 
ple's tea, it does not taste right if they don't make 
it themselves, it seems. 

"If you go into one of the big French nuts a few 
minutes after a unit arrives, you will see a gloomy 
interior dotted with little fires with groups around 
making tea, and of course a pall of evil smelling 
smoke." 

At nine o'clock that morning the First troop was 
sent to hold a position that was at the time of vital 
importance to us. Sergeant Parkerson rode out 
with his men and not only succeeded in holding the 



240 COMING OF DAWN 

position against great odds, but won for himself and 
his troop as well, a right to be mentioned when the 
history of this great war shall be written. 

Sergeant Parkerson was afterwards decorated for 
bravery and devotion to duty on this occasion, with 
the M. M. Corporal Akerstream received mention 
in the dispatches for his gallant work with his ma- 
chine gun. It was here also that Private Thompson 
of the machine gun squadron won the shoulder 
decoration D. CM., for devotion to duty in assist- 
ing to repair bridges, though at the time severely 
wounded through the shoulder, yet sticking to his 
post until the task was completed. 

In the repair of bridges at this time German pris- 
oners were employed and they seemed really glad 
of the opportunity to show their captors that they 
were willing to do something, anything, to get away 
from their taskmasters, the Prussian militarism. 

For nearly two days and two nights we had been 
almost constantly on our feet, at times fighting, at 
times working, and all of the time subject to and 
under shell and machine gun fire, not to say any- 
thing of the discomforts suffered from the rain, 
cold and hunger. We could not possibly endure 
another day of cold or a night of sleeplessness. Man 
must be refreshed, and horses needed rest and food. 
Both had reached the limit of endurance, and so 
at about two P. M. that day we were relieved by 



COMING OF DAWN 241 

one of the imperial brigades and started back to 
the rear for rest. 

Could I clearly paint a picture or intelligently de- 
scribe all of the horrors we witnessed and suffered 
during the few days we were at and engaged in that 
great battle of Cambria, I am sure the reader would 
close the book horror stricken and in disgust. But 
before I close this chapter let me cite a bit of humor 
that seems to crop up or exist even in the midst of 
war's horror, and how such humor strikes home to 
us under the most trying circumstances. 

A tank is seen returning from an attack, but not 
now in the capacity of a destroyer of life, rather 
performing work of a good Samaritan, for within 
its iron walls are women and children being brought 
back by it to safety. And that is not all it is bring- 
ing back, for tied to the rear and following it are 
two meek looking cows. The sight was very un- 
usual and naturally quite unexpected and brought 
forth a laugh from all and a remark as well, from 
some of the men to the effect — "Wal, I have heard 
of bringing home the bacon, but you can search 
me if I ever heard of bringing home the beef." 

And yet this was not all, for on top of the tank 
was a rabbit hutch filled with rabbits, which caused 
one of our boys to say — 'The guys in that tank 
have not been fighting, they have been hunting, and 
seem to have made a good catch." This all caused 
us to forget for a time some of our own misery, 



242 COMING OF DAWN 

and we really enjoyed the humor of this most unique 
sight. 

At eight o'clock that night we arrived at a place 
called Sorel. Here we found shelter of all sorts for 
men and horses, built fires and dried our clothes 
and cooked food for the evening meal. We were 
informed we were going to continue on to a place 
called Suzanne, pleasant news it was to us for we 
were glad we were going back where we could rest 
again for a spell. 

We in time came to Suzanne, where we remained 
for about seven days when we again moved on, 
finally reaching a ruined village called Meraucourt, 
where we expected to remain and rest for some 
little time, but in this we were sadly disappointed. 

On the third morning after our arrival at the 
latter place and while out drilling on what we call 
drill order exercise, word came to the effect that 
the Germans had broken through and the Canadian 
brigade was ordered to leave for the front in an 
hour. 

This was as sudden as unexpected. "What, move 
in an hour," we exclaimed. That was the order and 
so it was obeyed. We packed our saddles as best we 
could, leaving behind a lot of personal equipment, 
and within the hour of receipt of the order we, the 
R. C. D.'s, were in the saddle and on our way to the 
brigade and divisional rendezvous. 




CHAPTER XXXI 

WE BLUFF FRITZ 

ES, THE enemy had broken through our 
lines capturing a large number of guns, 
and we the cavalry were about to be 
rushed up to stem the tide of oncoming 
Germans. 
It was a critical moment. The unex- 
pected had happened again. The enemy had found 
our weak spot and had thrown against it eight di- 
visions of their best storming troops. 

We saw and knew exactly what had happened 
and fully realized the task that lay before us, yet 
little did we realize the extent of the horrors we 
were to witness or the hardships and dangers we 
were to participate in. 

We pushed ahead without any loss of time and at 
four o'clock that afternoon were thrown into the 
fight. 

The duty of our regiment was to hold a section 
of railroad just north of Ephey. My troop was or- 
dered out on reconnoitre, with instructions to find, 
if possible, any road through the wire which would 

(243) 



244 WE BLUFF FRITZ 

permit the cavalry to plow through in large num- 
bers. It was rather a ticklish job and Mr. Gwyne 
called for ten men to volunteer. Immediately the 
troop volunteered to a man, but as ten men only 
were required now, I simply gave the order that the 
first ten men on the right mount for the task. The 
remainder of the troop was then turned over to 
Corporal Bartlett. 

Mr. Gwyne, the ten men and myself at once rode 
away on our perilous expedition. We were handi- 
capped, in a way, by the fact that we did not know 
the exact location of the enemy, but in this we 
were not left long in doubt, for as we showed our- 
selves over the skyline, we were greeted with a rain 
of machine gun bullets from Fritz. Two of the 
horses were hit and slightly wounded. 

We immediately opened out in extended order, 
when only about one hundred yards ahead of us 
we saw crouching behind a clump of trees a ma- 
chine gun crew of the enemy. Mr. Gwyne at once 
gave the signal to draw swords and charge, and 
charge we did with a vengeance. 

Fritz, fortunately, had the wind up and could 
not hit us. Oh, it was a grand little fight while it 
lasted, but we rode them down. There were eight 
in the crew, all of a Saxon regiment. I singled out 
for my "meat" a very nice looking chap who seemed 
to be trying to give orders, and went for him. He 
saw me coming and knew I meant business. He 



WE BLUFF FRITZ 245 

drew his revolver and shot at me but missed. It 
was his last shot in the war, for before he could 
fire again, my sword passed through his neck. I 
saw the look of awful amazement on his face as he 
went to the ground to die a few seconds later. 

Mr. Gwyne had just put the finishing touch to the 
fight by shooting a fellow through the head who 
was about to make a lunge at him with his bayonet. 
Two members of the troop, Corporals Craddock and 
Roberts, were meantime destroying the machine 
gun. 

On the whole it was a nice little fight and thor- 
oughly enjoyed by the participants on our siae of 
the engagement. 

Mr. Gwyne sent a man back to headquarters with 
a report which reau as follows — "Surprised and 
killed enemy machine gun crew and destroyed gun. 
Am pushing on. So far no casualties. ,, Just a mes- 
sage brief and to the point, telling all. 

We pushed on and soon came to the wire entan- 
glement in which we were to find a way through. 
Here Mr. Gwyne decided he and I would push ahead 
on foot. Dismounting and leaving the other men 
in a sunken road near by, with instructions to Cor- 
poral Craddock, who was left in command, to return 
to the regiment in an hour, providing we did not 
return in that time, and make a report to the effect 
that we were missing, we left the party. 
33 



246 WE BLUFF FRITZ 

It was almost dark now as we pushed our way 
through a small gap in the wire. Away to our right 
a machine gun was speaking, but otherwise not a 
figure was to be seen in the miles of shadowy land- 
scape that lay before our eyes. 

We were armed with revolvers and sticks as 
weapons of offense and defense, and naturally ex- 
amined them before proceeding far. I was dis- 
mayed to find I had no ammunition, but did not dare 
inform Mr. Gwyne of the fact, and so trusted to 
luck that we might not encounter any of the enemy. 

We soon came to a crossroads unprotected by 
wire or obstacle of any description. We had found 
what we were looking for — the road leading to 
Vandhuile, and were just flattering ourselves for 
having found the task so easy and so free from dan- 
ger, when we saw coming along the road toward 
us a party of men, their identity as yet undistin- 
guishable. We commenced to walk toward them, 
and as we did so, I felt my knees shaking and began 
praying they were not Germans. 

The on coming party halted as soon as they saw 
us, and at that we halted also. In the dim light of 
the dying day neither party could distinguish the 
identity of the other. A member of the approach- 
ing party soon advanced toward us, apparently to 
find out just exactly who we were, whether friend 
or foe. We were equally as curious as to their 



WE BLUFF FRITZ 247 

identity and so we cautiously moved up a little fur- 
ther also. 

We had gone but a few steps when Mr. Gwyne 
clutched me by the arm and said in a low tense 
voice, "They are Germans." The lone Hun was now 
but about fifty yards from us, and he too seemed 
to have discovered by now that we were Britishers, 
for he stopped, turned about and commenced going 
back toward his party at double quick time. 

Mr. Gwyne at once pulled out his whistle and 
blew the signal for ' 'charge." I at the same time 
commenced to blow my whistle as to a body of men 
behind me. The bluff worked, for the Germans 
apparently thinking that we were there in large 
numbers, took to their heels and at that I started 
after the lone Hun. All this took place in about 
thirty seconds, and although Fritz had a pretty 
good start of me, he was handicapped in the race 
with his rifle, bayonet and equipment. I was trav- 
eling light and gradually gaining and closing in on 
him. Right behind me in the race was Mr. Gwyne, 
firing his revolver at the fleeing Hun. He missed 
him, his shot going wide of the mark, but Fritz 
was frightened and dropped to the ground. I was 
up to him in a second and made one jump, landing 
fairly upon his stomach knocking the wind com- 
pletely out of him. All the poor German could gasp 
was "Kamarad." In my excitement I pulled the 
trigger of my revolver, but fortunately for my cap- 



248 WE BLUFF FRITZ 

tive, the chambers were all empty, and fortunately 
for us, as well, that I was unable to kill him, for 
the information he gave our brigade headquarters 
was most valuable. 

We realized we could not tarry here long and must 
get back quickly, so jerked Fritz to his feet and 
started with him back down the road at double 
quick time. We were obliged to encourage Fritz to 
greater speed endeavor by giving him an occasional 
kick in the seat of his pants, for we knew our bluff 
had been discovered and that our companion's com- 
rades were making preparations to capture us. 

Our trip back was amusing to ourselves, and if 
you could have had the pleasure of witnessing two 
great big soldiers kicking that Hun all the way down 
that road you too would have laughed as heartily 
as we did. 

We found our way safely back to the regiment. 
Mr. Gwyne made his report to general headquarters 
while I hurried our prisoner over to the interpreter. 

The information the prisoner gave was most im- 
portant and gave us a great advantage. It was to 
the effect that the party we had bluffed were com- 
ing, thirty-two of them, with machine guns to de- 
fend and hold the crossroads I have mentioned. 

We were highly complimented for our presence 
of mind and our accomplishment. Mr. Gwyne en- 
deavored to place all the credit upon me for the 
capture. I hardly felt I deserved it, for while I 



WE BLUFF FRITZ 249 

chased the Hun, it is true, I must confess it was 
not because I was not afraid, but because of the fact 
he was running away. If the situation had been 
reversed I would likely have ran to the rear quite 
as fast as did he, possibly, since I was armed with 
a perfectly safe revolver for the enemy. 

I returned to where we had left our men in charge 
of Corporal Craddock and found them exactly where 
we had parted company. I recounted our experience 
to the men and they expressed regret that they had 
not been permitted to witness the capture of and 
the return with the lone Hun. We mounted and 
returned to the regiment to be greeted with the 
order to advance on a ruined farm as infantry and 
dig in. 



CHAPTER XXXII 



DIGGING IN 




ES, WE had to dig in. Picks and shovels 
were delivered to the poor tired sol- 
diers and they set to work at hard 
manual labor digging — digging in as it 
is called in this modern form of war- 
fare when men are obliged to burrow 
and live like animals. 

A drizzling rain was falling and it was cold on 
that thirtieth day of November, 1918. It was my 
duty to direct and oversee the work of my men, and 
I could see, as I walked along the fast deepening 
trench, a long line of dark bent figures, digging and 
throwing the dirt in a way never witnessed on any 
public work in civil life. On my left the men of the 
Second troop were working likewise and I could see 
Sergeant Sayger walking up and down his line of 
faithful workers as I was doing, helping his men by 
giving a word of encouragement now and then. 

Much of this work was done under cover of dark- 
ness and occasionally a star shell would go sailing 

(250) 



DIGGING IN 251 

up in the air at which every man would cease opera- 
tions in just the position the light found him until 
it died down again. Then a shell would come scream- 
ing through the air followed by another and still 
another, and frequently there would be heard a cry 
and some man would go down. Stretcher bearers 
would rush at double time to the scene and carry 
off the wounded, and so things went on during the 
night, but the work never ceased. 

It is times like these and under such conditions 
and while in the performance of such duty that men 
prove their true worth. Times when they work or 
fight in the dark, the rain and the cold, and while 
under shell fire, and not able to stop to smoke or 
refresh themselves for a moment. 

Gradually the trench deepened until it afforded 
sufficient protection to permit the men to stand 
erect — that is, four feet of excavation with two feet 
of earth thrown on the bank, making a depth of six 
feet in all. To accomplish this the men have suf- 
fered and sweat blood almost, and when their task 
is complete they drop their tools and stand up and 
wait. Wait for what? For further orders, the 
nature of which they know not. 

During the work the men become overheated and 
now as they grow cold, and with that and aching 
back and limbs and an empty stomach, they become 
miserable. 



252 DIGGING IN 

Oh reader, let me tell you that it is not the 
thought or fear of being wounded or killed, even, 
that brings the greatest terror or mental or physi- 
cal suffering to a soldier. It is the awful waiting 
amidst such trying conditions, when clothes are wet, 
feet numb with the cold, and one is hungry and 
tired, oh so tired and sleepy. Then it is that his 
thoughts are more than ever of home. How sweet 
is the thought of home and the recollections of 
peace and happiness he enjoyed there with his own, 
and how he longs for just one more moment there. 
These are times when he becomes very homesick 
and heartily sick of himself in his position, and he 
would be willing to die right then could he but first 
have one long last look at home. And he feels he 
could die in that way with a smile upon his lips. 
During such periods of despondency he can almost 
see coming out of the inky blackness a picture of 
home and of the mother or other dear ones there, 
and yet, how far, far away "back home" appears 
to be, and he feels he will never see it again except 
in his dreams. 

I speak of these thoughts and feelings from per- 
sonal experience. How often have I had such fits 
of mental suffering, and then suddenly coming to 
my real self, would stretch out my arms and try to 
shake off the feeling and laugh at myself for my 
silliness in giving way to such weakness, and hope 



DIGGING IN 253 

at the same time none of my comrades had noticed 
my action or mood. 

Mothers and wives who are waiting for the return 
of your boy, let me tell you he too is often stretch- 
ing out his arms to you and longing to run home 
and throw them about you and cling to you for eter- 
nity. He may never be permitted or able to come 
back to you or tell you his thoughts, and so I want, 
in my poor way, to tell you of the sweet memories 
of home and mother and wife and of the tender 
thoughts and longings that come to your boy so 
very, very often, when he is suffering hardship, 
misery and torture far away from home, and to 
say it is, after all, such thoughts that makes him 
brave and gives him courage to continue to "Smile 
and Carry On" in the work for which he has pledged 
his life. 

In time a shrill blast on a whistle rings out and 
the men instantly come to attention with eyes di- 
rected to the front. An order is passed down the 
trench to "Stand to." Each man at this looks to 
his rifle and sees that the bayonet is properly se- 
cured and that all is ready for the work ahead. A 
thrill passes through his body and he tries to 
imagine what he will do when he gets into close 
quarters with the enemy, if he should. 

Suddenly all hell seemed to have broken loose. 
Machine guns along the whole line of our trench 
had opened up. A command is given— "Steady men. 



254 DIGGING IN 

Steady." "Wait for the whistle." And then, "Pass 
the word down, 'Cease fire.' " 

What, cease fire so soon? Don't we go over the 
top? We inquire of ourselves. Seemingly not. 
We were disappointed. The Huns were already 
falling back and under the excitement of the mo- 
ment we wanted to follow. As if to give vent to 
our feelings we cursed, and some men really sobbed, 
so great were their emotions. I really felt myself 
tremble and shake in my anger and disappointment, 
yet I knew I was at heart a coward, because in a 
little while I was glad we did not have to go over 
the top just then. I felt ashamed of my later 
feelings too, but as I passed from man to man I 
could note a look of relief in the eyes of some, and 
I knew how they too felt, and yet I knew and 
thanked God that though they were cold and hun- 
gry, tired and miserable, still they were ready and 
eager to go over and would have gone over the top 
that November night had they been permitted or 
ordered to do so, and would have willingly died if 
necessary. 

An order was now passed down the line that we 
would move out of the trenches at three A. M. and 
return to our horses. At the fixed hour we dragged 
ourselves up and out of the newly made trenches 
and plodded back through the mud and filth to the 
spot where we had left our horses, and there threw 



DIGGING IN 255 

ourselves down in the mud to try and sleep and for- 
get our misery. 

When we awoke the infantry had not as yet come 
up. The cavalry had held the enemy for two days. 
Could it hold them for another day? Could we? 
That was the question. We could try, and must. 

At nine o'clock on that morning of December 1st, 
we mounted and took up a position in a valley, later 
that same morning christened by some "The Valley 
of Death." 

Here we, the Canadian cavalry brigade, halted 
and again waited. Shells found us and tore into 
our ranks killing horses and men, yet we stood our 
ground and waited. 

Heavy guns were brought up on a gallop and 
placed in action on our left, many of the gunners 
being soon killed at their guns. Drivers were often 
killed as they raced away after bringing up the 
guns. 

On our right the Eighth Hussars were charging 
in a vain attempt to make a passage. In front of 
us the Indian cavalry were going over dismounted 
to try and stay and hold the Huns. A troop of 
the Lord Strathcona Horse in time mounted and 
rode away never to come back. Here and there 
could be seen a dispatch rider galloping to some 
point with a message. 

The whole landscape, as we viewed it, was dotted 
with moving troops. What a picture. What a 



256 DIGGING IN 

sight. Shell fire was on our right and behind us 
and amongst us, yet God must have been watching 
over us and protecting us that morning, for while 
we had a number of casualties we were able to hold 
our position, and the enemy seemed to be unable to 
advance. 

Then came an order, "The Canadian cavalry will 
return.' ' We mounted and moved back, not far, 
only across the railroad track, but why we knew 
not for here we were being shelled again. We 
halted and dismounted. Then an order was given. 

"One man to three horses. The others will fall 
in and double up." 

No, we were not returning this time, as we soon 
found out, but were going up to the front once more 
as infantry and over the top with "The Best of 
Luck." 




CHAPTER XXXIII 

AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 

SHALL here give you something of the 
engagement after the Cambria advance 
as detailed to me recently by a non- 
commissioned officer in "B" squadron 
of the Fourth troop. 

"After the Cambria advance we were 
sent to M , a ruined village seven miles be- 
hind the lines. We were given to understand that 
sixty per cent, of the brigade would go into the 
trenches and hold the line for the winter while the 
remainder would remain behind to look after the 
horses. 

"Upon reaching the village we began improvising 
stables for the horses and dugouts and huts for our- 
selves, expecting we were to go into winter quarters. 
"On November 30th, as usual, we turned out for 
mounted drill, when an orderly came out at gallop 
and informed us we should be ready to move again 
in an hour in full marching order. In view of the 
fact we had planned and were already settled down 

(257) 



258 AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 

for the winter, to get ready to move in so short a 
time meant quite a rush. However we managed to 
be ready within the hour. 

"At the appointed time the brigade formed up 
and moved off to the divisional rendezvous where 
we awaited further orders. There were at this time 
all manner of impossible rumors going around as 
to what had happened, but each one formed the idea 
that the Germans had broken through again. 

"At two P. M. we moved off by brigades and up 
the line, gradually bearing as we did to our right. 
We were anxious concerning the conditions which 
caused the hurried orders and tried to get news 
from the troops we met or passed on the way, but 
no one could give us any information. Just before 
dark we halted and dismounted somewhere close up 
to the front, for shells were bursting parallel to us 
on our right. Here we waited for about an hour or 
so during which time the Fourth troop of our squad- 
ron was ordered away to reconnoitre. 

"The regiment soon mounted again and moved 
straight ahead. It was nearly dark by now and so 
we moved up on a trot. The first intimation we had 
of the nearness of the enemy to our front was, 
when moving up the hillcrest we heard the machine 
guns whizzing over our heads. 

"We now received orders to dismount and hand 
the horses over to the horse-holders and take the 
picks and shovels off the pack horses. After obey- 



AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 259 

ing these orders we pushed forward in extended 
order while the horses were taken back under cover 
somewhere. 

"We passed a road and advanced a few yards to 
the other side and then received orders to "dig in." 
One of our squadrons advanced ahead of us mounted 
and took up a position. We commenced at once to 
dig a trench, and while doing so would be greeted 
every little while with a stream of machine bullets 
over our heads. According to my best judgment, 
the Germans were then but five hundred yards from 
us, where they had been checked in their advance 
that afternoon by the Imperial infantry. 

"We knew by this time that the Germans had 
advanced a few kilometers and for that reason every 
man available in the vicinity had been rushed up 
to stop them. 

"When we had the trenches dug to a sufficient 
depth for protection we were ordered to "stand to," 
as the enemy would likely attack during the early 
hours of the morning, and accordingly as the dawn 
began to appear we were all on the "qui vie." 

"At six o'clock that morning we were ordered out 
of the trenches and back to the horses to be ready 
to fight once more as cavalry. Here we received 
our rations of bully and biscuits, and the oats for 
the horses, and after feeding the horses and eating 
we formed up ready for action. 



260 AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 

"As soon as it grew light the horse artillery 
opened fire bringing retalliation at once from the 
enemy. One battery thereupon galloped up and un- 
limbered on our left, and now things began getting 
quite interesting for all, for shells began bursting 
to our right and left and over our heads, a stray 
bullet occasionally arriving and causing a horse to 
drop here and there, at which the owner would take 
what he wanted from his wallets and remove the 
nickel bit and stirrups from the equipment, and the 
others would rush to gather the feed oats for their 
horses. 

"One German shell hit an ammunition dump to 
our left rear containing a store of "very shells" and 
rockets of different colors, and for about fifteen 
minutes we were afforded a magnificent display of 
fireworks. 

"We 'stood to' under the shelling for about two 
hours, and every minute it seemed the Germans 
were coming closer and closer. We saw some cav- 
alry go into action at full gallop on our right and 
through the village of E ■ — . An Indian regi- 
ment advanced through us, dismounted, in extended 
order and lay down in front of us about two hun- 
dred yards away ready for action. 

"We finally received orders to mount and then 
moved back over the next crest of hill near the 
artillery, where battery after battery was assem- 
bling and opening fire on the Germans. Here we 



AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 261 

again dismounted and 'stood into' awaiting further 
orders, the meantime, after much trouble, being able 
to secure some water for the horses. We also even 
started fires here and managed to have a drink of 
hot tea. While doing so the Germans got the range 
and began dropping shells among us, one of which 
struck and blew up the camp kettles of one of the 
troops, causing them to lose their tea. 

"The hollow here was filled with horses. There 
were the led horses of the Indian and other cavalry 
regiments which were at the time in action on 
foot, and the teams of the several batteries. Now 
and again a shell would burst in the midst of the 
horses, causing many of those not killed to rear 
and break loose and gallop all over the place. If 
they happened to be Lancers' horses they would 
gallop about with the lances and swords swinging 
and swaying, as both swords and lances are left 
fastened to the saddle on the horses when the men 
go into action on foot, they taking in such cases 
only rifles and bayonets and tools. 

"At four P. M. orders were given to mount and 
advance to the position we had taken the previous 
evening. Here we did exactly the same thing as 
before — dismounted for action — and were told we 
were now to support another regiment of our brig- 
ade which was going 'over the top.' 

"We advanced in extended order under machine 
gun fire for about half a mile, where we reached 
35 



262 AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 

an old trench. From here we had to run singly 
across the open to a sunken road where we found 
a few of the squadron who were ahead of us the 
previous night and who had remained in this posi- 
tion all day. One troop of our squadron previously 
detached had been helping the infantry here all day 
also. 

"We went along a communication trench to what 
had been the advanced trench earlier in the day. 
The regiment which had been attacking had by this 
time gained their objective and was pushing the 
Germans back. One of the squadrons of our regi- 
ment was giving them assistance while we were in 
close support. Among other things, we kept send- 
ing suplies of ammunition up to the fighters, and 
stretcher bearers to bring back the wounded. The 
machine gun bullets of the enemy were continually 
cracking about our ears like a thousand whips, and 
this music would be occasionally interspersed by a 
shell that would come rushing on like an express 
train and burst a few yards or so over and beyond* 
us. One of such shells struck the perados of our 
trench, completely demolishing a few yards of it 
but fortunately injuring no one. We finally entered 
the trench with the regiment that had driven the 
Germans back, to find among the dead their colonel, 
who had lost his life in the attack. Here we also 
found plenty of evidence of the fierceness of the 
two days' fighting, furnished by the sight of the 



AFTER THE CAMBRIA ADVANCE 263 

many bodies scattered in and in front of the trench. 
"At midnight we were relieved by the Imperial 
cavalry, and marched back to our horses where we 
'stood to* the balance of the night. At daybreak we 
went into the reserve where we had a regular orgie 
of food and sleep, both of which we were surely in 
need of, I can honestly assure you." 




CHAPTER XXXIV 

HOME AGAIN 



"When from afar, homeward we return, 

How thrills our heart, how our love doth burn." 



I will not attempt to give a description 
of our life and doings during the winter 
months of 1918. 

On March 17th my heart was glad- 
dened by the receipt of orders to hold 
myself in readiness to proceed to Can- 
ada on three months' furlough. There was included 
in the order Sergts. Tamlyn and Cox, and you can 
easily imagine, I believe, our feelings upon receiving 
such welcome news. 

For nearly three and one half years we had borne 
the usual brunt of a soldier's life and had faced 
danger. We had seen nearly all of our comrades 
of the Royal Canadian Dragoons fall in battle, and 
accordingly had never dared entertain a hope of 
seeing home and loved ones again. And now, after 
all, we were surely to see Canada and home once 
more, and began planning for our departure. 

(264) 



HOME AGAIN 265 

On the evening- of March 20th, however, we were 
thrown in a state of despondency and all our hopes 
of seeing- home were as suddenly shattered. We 
were then informed that the situation demanded 
our presence for a time with the regiment, and that 
we must take part in the expected German drive on 
the morrow. We felt, ,upon receipt of such news, 
that fate had, after all, decreed we must also, like 
our comrades, possibly give up our lives for the 
cause and our bodies too rest on the blood-stained 
soil of France. 

We went into battle on the morning of the 21st, 
with heavy hearts and so fought all that day. 

We survived the day andwhen evening came were 
again gladdened by receipt of orders from headquar- 
ters to the effect that, "Under no circumstances 
shall Sergeants Jones, Tamlyn and Cox be detained 
another hour." We were told, with the communi- 
cation of such orders, that we should proceed at 
once to England to make preparations to sail for 
Canada. 

On the night of the 22nd, we crossed the English 
Channel and the morning of the 23rd found us once 
more on English soil, far away from the sight of 
bloodshed and the sound of guns. We were royally 
welcomed and treated by the English people as 
heroes. The feeling we experienced from such re- 
ception is beyond description. You who read know 
something of the joy with which the heart is filled 



266 HOME AGAIN 

at the safe homecoming of the soldier, but that is 
nothing compared with what the soldier feels upon 
his homecoming and amidst demonstrations of cheer 
and welcome. 

We remained at Shorncliff until March 28th, and 
then proceeded to Buxton, at which place furlough 
papers were issued granting us three months leave 
and a trip to Canada and return at public expense. 
We left Buxton April 10th, and proceeded to Liver- 
pool, where we boarded the S. S. Mauretania and 
soon were steaming westward and bound at last, 
beyond question of doubt, for home. 

My old pal of Valcatier camp and I occupied the 
same cabin, and it is safe to say that no more con- 
tented or happier persons ever crossed the Atlantic. 
The ship was filled with other soldiers, most of 
them either ill or maimed and many of whom had 
been discharged as unfit for further service, but 
all were happy for their hearts were filled with the 
thought that they had faithfully served their coun- 
try and now were to see home and loved ones again. 

The trip over was without event of note. We ar- 
rived at Halifax April 15th, and from there traveled 
first class to Toronto, which place we reached April 
18th. At the railway station we found awaiting 
us the mayor and an immense crowd of people, and 
as the train drew in the station the music of a 
band reached our ears. What we beheld was surely 
a happy and a pathetic sight. Wives, mothers and 



HOME AGAIN 267 

sweethearts were there to receive their own, and 
there were tears and laughter, according" to the emo- 
teion of the individual or the physical condition of 
the returning soldier. With it all there was shout- 
ing and waving and hurrahs. My sister was the 
only one of my kin to meet me, and when she caught 
sight of me, simply cried out, "Oh Will," and 
burst into tears. Such was something of the scenes 
pictured in the Canadian cities upon the return from 
the battle front of the Canadian soldiers. 

As soon as I could break away from the crowd 
and the public demonstration, I hurried to my moth- 
ers home in the city, where I knew she was very 
anxiously awaiting me. The scene of the meeting 
of mother and son I will not attempt to describe, 
but will leave to the imagination of other mothers 
who may have already and must yet pass through 
a similar experience. I will only say, in this con- 
nection, that she had already given up one son, my 
brother, who too had gone into the service for the 
cause and had been killed at Vimey Ridge, and for 
whose return she could never look. I was her only 
son now and prior to my return she had been obliged 
to hear a report to the effect that I too had fallen 
in battle. 

On the following day I hastened to my home 
in Amsterdam to see my wife and child. It was 
near evening when I reached my home town. News 
of my arrival had not yet reached there, and in fact 



268 HOME AGAIN 

news had preceded to the effect that I had been 
killed. Accordingly no one expected me and so I 
found none at the station to greet me, and as I 
made my way home I met none who recognized me. 

Reaching my house I found my grandfather 
doing some work in the garden. I spoke to him and 
he at first failed to recognize me. I inquired for 
my son Billy and was told he was playing about 
the yard. I went to look for him and found him 
playing soldier. Upon seeing me he stopped and 
looked my uniform over with childish interest and 
then asked, "Are you a soldier?" 

I said I was. He then looked me over with ap- 
parent added interest and said, "My daddy is a sol- 
dier too. A great big soldier. He is way off shoot- 
ing Germans, and when I grow to be a big man, I 
am going to shoot Germans too." 

Then he asked, "Do you know my daddy?" I 
said, "What is your daddy's name?" He replied, 
"My daddy's name is Corporal Jones. My name is 
Billy Jones." 

I said, "My name is Billy Jones too." At that 
information his eyes seemed to grow bigger than 
ever and he looked me over again with apparent 
still greater interest, and being evidently satisfied 
with my appearance, finally asked, "Are you my 
daddy?" 

Further conversation ended with that question, 
for; I immediately picked him up and hugged him 



HOME AGAIN 269 

to my breast and kissed him and told him I was 
his own soldier daddy. It is needless to describe 
the scene further, or to say that at that moment 
I was the happiest person living. Once more away 
from the scene of carnage and bloodshed and hold- 
ing in my arms my own little son, my flesh and 
blood. All the misery, suffering and torture of the 
past three and one half years seemed to fade away 
as nothing more than a dream in this moment of 
my happiness. 

My stay at home was filled with pleasure and all 
the excitement experienced by a soldier returned 
from the front and among friends and kin. 

At the end of my furlough I returned to Toronto 
and was about to depart to the sailing port when 
information was received that the furlough had been 
extended by the Canadian government for a period 
of thirty days. I returned to my home and spent 
another happy month as a soldier in the land of 
peace. 

The end of my extended leave of absence found 
me at the place of departure for England again, and 
I will give to you, dear reader, just a little descrip- 
tion of life aboard ship on this second trip across 
sea and then my story will end. 

On board S. S. , this beautiful August 

afternoon, feeling, as I write, that I must have been 
born under a lucky star to have been permitted to 
36 



270 HOME AGAIN 

pass through all I have recounted to you herein and 
yet live to enjoy so much of the beautiful in life. 

As I sit in my deck chair we are steaming down 
the beautiful St. Lawrence river, and I am enjoy- 
ing to the fullest extent its wonderful scenery, and 
with it all am wondering whether the future shall 
be as kind to me, and whether I shall ever be per- 
mitted to view it again, or whether I am now for 
the last time looking at these beautiful shores. 

I have been informed the trip across will take at 
least sixteen days. At Halifax we are to pick up 
the rest of the convoy and then Eastward Ho. I 
cannot but recall my first trip over and note the 
different conditions under which I am now travel- 
ing. Then I was but a raw recruit continually 
ordered around by officers. Now traveling first class 
with a neat cabin to myself and sitting around and 
being treated by all with the greatest respect, 
and by almost the entire ship's company and 
crew with a certain amount of awe. In this 
connection I have already heard remarks concerning 
myself such as these, "Yes, 'E's going back. Been 
three and a 'alf years in France and going back." 
"What's "is name?" "What outfit does 'e belong 
to?" "Must be foolish to go back." 

Possibly I am foolish, since I was given my choice 
to remain on duty in Canada or to return. But I 
could not be contented now to remain in Canada, 
while my regiment and my pals are still in France 



HOME AGAIN 271 

carrying on, and since I am a soldier and a soldier's 
work remains unfinished, while I am fit I must go 
back to France where a good soldier belongs. 

Thus far my experience since leaving home has 
been uneventful beyond an amusing little incident 
which happened outside of the docks before sailing. 
When I reported for duty to one of the sergeants 
of Colonel Stewart's staff and gave him my name 
and rank, he said, "Oh yes, I have your name here, 
but headquarters at Toronto has forgotten to put 
all your number on the paper. All they have it is 
59." This amused me, for I knew he had been ac- 
customed of late to checking up regimental num- 
bers anywhere up to seven figures. I told him I 
was the 59th man to enter the service in Canada 
and that the number was correct. Upon this infor- 
mation a look of surprise spread over his face and 
all I heard him say was, "Gee whiz."" At that I 
simply laughed and walked on. 

The boys aboard ship seem to be full of life and 
perfectly happy. I notice most of the officers to be 
smart looking and manly men and that all have seen 
service in France. One officer has been wounded 
three times and wears the military cross on his 
breast. Among the men I have already become ac- 
quainted with are S. S. Taylor of the Medical Corps 
and a Sergeant Le Roy, both returning to France. 
The latter is a French Canadian and seems to speak 
beautiful French, and I feel that I shall court his 



272 HOME AGAIN 

companionship and practice my poor French upon 
him and endeavor to obtain in this way a better 
command of the French language before my jour- 
ney's end. 

We are now nearing Halifax and there I shall post 
what I have written for this chapter and in that 
way bid you good bye. As we leave Halifax my 
thoughts will turn to the future and they will be 
thoughts most serious, as contrasted with those 
which occupied my mind as we steamed out of this 
port on an October afternoon in 1914. Then I knew 
nothing, you might say, concerning what was before 
me, and my mind then was filled largely with excite- 
ment and thoughts of adventure. Today I realize 
fully what war means to a soldier and what experi- 
ence, and possible fate, awaits him. 

Notwithstanding my thoughts I go forward as 
willingly as before. No true soldier could or would 
do otherwise, I know, when the cause for which we 
fight is so noble. We have begun a fight for liberty, 
justice and freedom for the people of the world. 
The work is far from finished, and so we who have 
engaged in it must carry on to the end, that my 
son and the sons of other men may never again 
have to take up and bear arms for the same rea- 
son, and that other innocent and defenseless men, 
women and children may never again have to suffer 
at the hands of any people or ruler. 



HOME AGAIN 273 

So my face is set toward the east where duty- 
lies. I go forward with confidence in the future, 
and should I be spared to enjoy some of the bless- 
ings that will come from a peace we fight for, then 
will I ever give thanks to my Creator and Preserver. 
If, however, it should be my lot to make the supreme 
sacrifice for the cause of humanity, then be it so — 

For I shall deem it an honor, 

For such a cause to die, 
And in consecrated soil, yonder, 

Shall be content to lie. 



FOURTH TROOP ROLL 

ROYAL CANADIAN DRAGOONS 

SPRING OF 1918 



Regt. No. 


Rank 


Name 


59 


Sgt. 


Jones, William R. 


14645 


Sgt. 


Bartlett, C. J. 


14941 


Cpl. 


Craddock, H. E. 


649 


Ac. Cpl. 


Barge, L. 


226550 


La. Cpl. 


Cunningham, H. 


115231 


Ac. L. Cpl. 


Goodman 


810 


S.S 


Reese, W. J. 


607 


L. Cpl. 


Roberts, J. 


550259 


Private 


Bartlett, J. S. 


46050 


Private 


Bigney, J. W. 


537 


Private 


Bowes, C. 


550282 


Private 


Campbell, H. G. 


550292 


Private 


Currie, J. 




Private 


Cullen. 


550428 


Private 


Neff, G. M. 


550190 


Private 


Barrowclough, R. W. 




Private 


Barrowclough, W- H. 


48002 


Private 


Fortune, J. 


49673 


Private 


Godin, J. 



Regt. No. 


Rank 


Name 


562 


Private 


Gordon, J. 


300650 


Private 


Goodings, H. G. 


15122 


Private 


Godfrey, H. G. 


566 


Private 


Haliet, J. M. 


15026 


Private 


Heirlhey, C. E. 


868 


Private 


Higham, R. 


552996 


Private 


Hocket, H. G. 




Private 


Hollinghead. 


550389 


Private 


Irvine, E. 


3730 


Private 


James, J. A. 


550478 


Private 


Jaminson, W. 


579 


Private 


King, J. 


14651 


Private 


Lainsbury, J. 


550319 


Private 


Littledale, E. T. 


550238 


Private 


Mitchell, W. J. 


14658 


Private 


Martin, E. R. 


550213 


Private 


Moule, R. E. 


587 


Private 


McCordick, A. 


15476 


Private 


Painter, T. 


17 


Private 


Payne, J. 


' 600 


Private 


Picken, E. K. 


618 


Private 


Maxwell, A. 


628 


Private 


Vince, A. 


550179 


Private 


Walker, L. 


226156 


Private 


Ross, J. T. 


550214 


Private 


Mullen, R. P. 


226766 


Private 


Maxwell, W. J. 


550417 


Private 


Osborn, J.C. 


225661 


Private 


Thompson, J. H. 
Merrick. 



PUBLISHER'S ADDENDA 



It may be of some interest to the reader, it is 
thought, to read a few letters received from Sergt. 
Jones since his return to duty. 

The first letter is dated August 19, 1918, and was 
written from Shorncliff, Cavalry Depot, England. 
In it he says: — 

" After a long voyage, full of hard work and a 
little excitement, I reached England. On the way 
over I was appointed Ship Sergeant-Major,- and I 
can assure you I had my work cut out to organize 
the general routine for the men aboard. 

"There were soldiers aboard, including the 

officers, and what a lot. Some had been in the army 
but about three weeks, and they looked it. By the 

time we arrived at , however, every one 

knew I was aboard ship. I gave the men their first 
real touch of soldiering, viz — obeying and carrying 
out orders smartly. 

"We had a large number of sick during the trip 
and a few deaths. In the latter connection I had the 
hard task of sewing up in canvass for burial and 
attending to the burial of five bodies. It was really 
no duty of mine, but the ship's crew were Chinamen 
and they would not look at the bodies, let alone 
touch them, and since the soldiers themselves knew 
nothing about the work it fell to me and my staff 
to perform the work. 

(277) 



"We made rather a neat job of the first case, and 
it looked so neat and well prepared for burial that 
I had something of a feeling of pride in my handi- 
work in this connection. He, the dead man, had to 
be buried at 5:30 in the morning. At that hour all 
the soldiers stood at attention at their boat station 
while the four men who were to act as pall bearers 
carried the body upon a plank to the port side of 
the ship. 

"The body was wrapped in the Union Jack. It 
was a pathetic sight and I saw tears in the eyes of 
a number of the soldiers who happened to be in the 
vicinity of where the body was to be dropped over- 
board. I was watching anxiously to see that the 
body was not dropped on the deck and praying that 
the men would let it slip overboard at the proper 
time. I had been drilling the men for about an hour 
previously on just what to do and when and how to 
do it, and cautioned them as follows: 'Now don't 
forget, when the chaplain says, "I now commit your 
body to the deep," you are to raise the plank very 
slightly and let the body slide off into the water, 
at the same time retaining both the plank and the 
flag." 

"Everything went fine until the chaplain said, 'I 
now commit your body to the deep.' Then he waited 
for the body to drop into the briny deep. I, too, 
waited, but nothing happened. The men seemed to 
have forgotten their part. I then gave them the 
'high sign' to let it go, and with that they surely 
did, body, plank and flag all going down together. 

"I nearly exploded, and I noticed the chaplain too 
had an effort to remain solemn and dignified, but we 
managed to keep quiet and let it pass as quite the 
proper procedure, and I believe no one else who wit- 
nessed the scene was any the wiser. In the case of 

(278) 



the remaining four burials things passed off very 
smoothly and proper. * * * 

"Col. Clegg wrote a very fine letter to my com- 
manding officer, a copy of which I enclose to you, 
just to show you I am commencing my second trip 
by being on the job. 

"Don't bother to send me my troop roll book now 
for it will be of no use to me. I have been told, I 
am sorry to inform you, the Old Black troop is no 
more, Private Painter and myself only remaining 
for duty. 

"I expect to be in France by the time this letter 
reaches you, at least that is my hope. * * * 
"Very truly yours, 

"SERGT. JONES." 



(Copy of letter referred to.) 

"S. S. IXION 

"13th August, 1918. 
"From— 0. C. Troops, S. S. Ixion. 
"To — 0. C. Royal Canadian Dragoons. 

"On the passage from Canada to England I was 
without experienced N. C. Os. and called on No. 59, 
Sergt. W. R. Jones, R. C. D., to act as ship's ser- 
geant major. 

"It was a difficult post to fill and I wish to let his 
commanding officer know in expressing my own ap- 
preciation of his services, that 1 consider him an 
efficient and very reliable N. C. O. 

"I was fortunate in having him on board and hope 
that his abilities will be recognized in due course. 

"CLEGG, Lt. Colonel, 

"O. C, No. 6a, T. A. C. S." 
(279) 



"Shorncliff Cavalry Depot, England, 
"Aug. 23d, 1918. 

«* * * J am s tiH going strong but chaffing at 
the delay. I am leaving now in a few days for 
France,, and the sooner I leave the better I shall 
feel. 

"I have suffered much sorrow and pain at the 
sight of some of my faithful troopers who have been 
returned here maimed and broken. Can you wonder 
that I want to go back and do what I can to avenge 
for those noble comrades of mine of the Old Black 
Troop, which is no more? I hope God gives me the 
strength to 'carry on' until I, at least, am satisfied 
that we, the Fourth troop, have paid in full. 

"I regret now for having come home, even for 
the few short months. You wonder why? Then, in 
my poor way, I will try and explain. You of course 
now know of Picken, Roberts, Bigney, Godfrey, 
Hockert, etc., and of Sergt. Bartlett, who I left in 
charge. Well, I have met them all. Poor Picken will 
never walk alone. Roberts' face has been disfigured 
for life. Bigney, poor Bigney, only a boy, has lost 
one arm and a leg. Hockert gassed and disfigured 
beyond any hope of recovery. Sergt. Bartlett who 
led the troop in that fateful charge of Moreuil 
Wood, had his left arm blown off but still manages 
to carry on. 

"When I saw them, each had the same remark 
to make, 'If the Old Man had only been with us.' 
And so I feel like a slacker for having come away. 

4 'Godfrey, poor young Godfrey, yet so cheerful 
and so resigned to his fate, the worst that can be- 
fall a young man — blind, totally blind, and yet he 
smiles and says it was great while it lasted. I will 
try and tell you how I first met him on my return. 
(280) 



I was walking along the Lees when I saw coming 
toward me a R. C. D. with a white bandage over his 
eyes and being led by another soldier. As he came 
closer I recognized him as Godfrey. I hastened to 
him and took him by the hand and spoke to him. 
He at once recognized me, and what do you think 
he said? It was, 'I heard you were in Shorncliffe, 
Sergeant, and I was hoping you would come and see 
me/ 

"Yes he recognized my voice, and while he talked 
he kept laughing, and for a moment I was unable 
to speak and really did not know what to say to 
him, and so said, 'I am glad to see you looking so 
well, Old Man. Let us go and have some coffee/ 
With that I took his arm and off we went. I loaned 
him my eyes for the time we were together, and 
when I took him back to the hospital he told me 
he had enjoyed himself immensely. What courage! 
No complaints, no regrets, at least he spoke of none 
to me. It is boys like young Godfrey who make bet- 
ter men of us all and better soldiers. * * *" 

On September 6th the sergeant wrote that he 
was back in France with his regiment and "still 
smiling." That his hero, Maj. Timmis, was second 
in command of the regiment and had won the D. S. 
0. That with a few, a very few exceptions, the men 
of the regiment and he were strangers. 

In concluding the letter he said the Huns were 
dropping bombs, and he must be excused from writ- 
ing more for he had to run and see if any damage 
had been done in the horse lines. 

The last letter from the sergeant was written 
from France and is dated Oct. 26th, 1918. He had 
been wounded in the left leg, but was out of the 
hospital again and at the time of writing was the 
officer in command of the Fourth Troop. 

(281) 



He concludes this letter by saying, "I am well, 
dirty, hungry and lousy, but still smiling. Candle 
going out. Good night and good bye." 

And so ends this story of some of the experiences 
of the brave young men, who have been the "De- 
fenders of France" and the fighters in this world 
war for the cause of freedom, liberty and justice for 
all. 



